


Tell Me Where Time Begins

by Artemisdesari



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN, Asshole Thranduil, Blame Skyrere for encouraging me, Canon Typical Violence, Dark Thorin, F/M, Fili has it much harder in this one, Fili is just confused, Fix-It of Sorts, Gandalf is a meddling git, Gold Sick Thorin, I really have no idea why I write these things, I wrote this instead of renovating my house, If time could just fix itself that would be great, Maybe - Freeform, More tags will come, No Beta, Thorin Oakenshield Being an Asshole, Thranduil being an asshole, Time Travel Fix-It, Time loop fic, even when he doesn't realise it, they always do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-16 16:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21274580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemisdesari/pseuds/Artemisdesari
Summary: The last thing he remembers is the blinding pain of the orc’s weapon in his back and the thick (too warm, so horribly warm) bubble of his own blood in his throat. Then there is nothingness for a blissful moment.Fili wakes screaming.





	1. Chapter 1

Fili stares down at his uncle’s horrified face, Azog’s grip is punishing and serves only to promise that he will be dead soon. Fili would happily sacrifice himself if it were to mean that Thorin and Kili (especially Kili) will live. He isn’t stupid enough to think that they will just because the white orc is about the spill his blood. Nor does he have any hope that Thorin will listen to his desperate cries for them to run before they meet the same fate. The last thing he remembers is the blinding pain of the orc’s weapon in his back and the thick (too warm, so horribly warm) bubble of his own blood in his throat. Then there is nothingness for a blissful moment.

Fili wakes screaming.

They are, he realises with a start, on the borders of the Shire. Their ponies are still tied, shuffling nervously, under the same tall oaks they made camp beneath the night before so that he and Kili could get some much needed sleep. Kili is staring at him with wide eyes, his hand pressed against his bloodied nose and Fili is dimly aware of a sting in his knuckles as he wrenches himself about so that he can feel for the gaping wound in his back that he is so certain should be there.

“Must have been some dream,” his brother grumbles.

“Kili,” he breathes and lurches to pull the younger into a crushing embrace.

“I need my ribs, nadad,” Kili squawks and Fili releases him.

He still shaken by his incredibly vivid, and decidedly lacking in weirdness, dream. Except that is all it could possibly have been. Azog the Defiler is dead, his uncle has always said so, and so Fili forces himself to push the thing from his mind, writes it off as nothing more than a terrible nightmare brought on by his desperate need for this quest to succeed. Kili gives him a few odd looks as they pack up camp and depart but doesn’t push the subject any further when Fili asks him to let it be.

That actually makes a nice change.

The first hint that Fili gets that the whole thing might _not_ have been a simple dream is the hobbit girl they stop to ask for directions to Hobbiton. The paths of the Shire twist and turn and although Fili is sure that he could find his way given time, his mother always taught them that he will appear more foolish if he loses his way than if he asks for directions. The hobbit girl wears the same cornflower blue skirts and bodice, over a crisp white blouse with a basket slung over one arm, as the one in his dream. Even the flowers embroidered the hem and cuffs of her sleeves are the same vibrant yellow that he recalls and her emerald eyes dance as she takes in his slack jawed expression.

“Forgive my halfwit brother, mistress hobbit,” Kili says smoothly. She smiles at him, though it is not the bright thing that Fili expects. “We’re looking for Hobbiton, do you know the way?”

“Of course,” she replies politely,” but you have managed to get off the main roads.” She gives them the directions that they need to find their way, a straight path once they have found it again, but there is a gleam in her eyes as she speaks to the pair of them that Fili would not expect to see in the stuffy hobbits of his dreams. “But whatever it is that you’re selling you don’t want to take to Hobbiton. You’ll never find a hobbit from there leaving the Shire or buying from outsiders. You’d do better business in Michel Delving, or even going south to Tookborough.”

Even her _words_ are the same and Fili can feel himself starting to panic. Something is _very_ wrong.

“A tempting offer,” Kili responds and there is no missing the way that his little brother looks the dark-haired hobbit over. Except in his dream _Fili_ had been the one giving her _that_ look, and she had certainly responded to it far better from him than Kili.

“We have other companions to meet there,” Fili adds, “but we’ll take what you’ve said under advisement.” He winks at her and she beams at him.

“Well, if you _do_ make it to Tookborough I hope you’ll stay for a few days,” she flicks her curls back over her shoulder. “Good luck in your venture, either way,” she adds and bobs a quick curtsey before flouncing off down the road.

Fili watches her go for longer than is strictly necessary, his mind racing with thoughts and worries about the bizarre similarities between this conversation and his dream. Then Kili catches his attention and they nudge their ponies in the direction the hobbit had indicated.

By the end of the day Fili feels like he is on the edge of a complete breakdown. How can it be possible that everything is happening precisely as his dream predicted it would? Every significant moment of this day, from meeting the hobbit girl, to almost being denied entry to Bag End, to Thorin’s comment on Mister Baggins’ profession and Bilbo dropping in a dead faint at the thought of a dragon have come to pass. If this day has happened so similarly to what he remembers of his dream (or could it be called a vision), what does that say for the rest of it? Will it all happen the same way? Because if it does that means that _he_ is going to die, and very likely Kili and Thorin as well.

With every event that happens the way he recalls it Fili becomes more convinced that they should not go. He becomes more convinced that it is _all_ going to go horribly wrong and there will be nothing that he can do about it. If he were certain that it was only him marching to his death he wouldn’t hesitate in continuing. He would die a thousand times only to keep his uncle and brother safe, although he would rather _not_. The uncertainty, however, makes him wary and spotting similarities is distracting.

Drowning three weeks later because he is so over-confident about his fate that he dives into a swollen river after a swept away pony is _not_ his finest moment. He wakes again back on the edges of the Shire with a startled gasp.

Things are far more complicated than he had thought.

Very little varies the second time (or third, he supposes, if he wasn’t reliving a dream last time), or the three times after that. It always starts the same way, waking in the Shire, meeting the hobbit girl, reaching Bag End and leaving the following morning before Bilbo wakes only for him to catch them up. Even the conversations hardly change, unless _he_ responds differently. The only differences are how far they all get before everything resets when someone dies. They only get near the hidden passage to Rivendell once (it turns out that an elf arrow hurts just as much as any other and are just as deadly). Ultimately it is the trolls that cause the most problems, and Fili suspects that they only survived the first time out of sheer _luck_. Bilbo gets torn apart twice because Thorin doesn’t give the order to down weapons quickly enough, more suspicious of the hobbit though Fili isn’t sure why. They manage to avoid the same campsite the third time only for the trolls to stumble on the entire company and Fili will never be able to forget Ori’s screams or the crunch of bone as one of the massive creatures bit off his legs. The final time Bombur gets squashed and _that _is another sound that Fili could have done without ever having heard as well.

By the time Fili has been through the first weeks of the quest another six times, he decides that he needs to take a break.

Physically, Fili has only been on the road for a few weeks, and he has certainly made longer journeys while escorting caravans. Mentally, however, it must have been over a year and he just needs the time to _think_. He knows that getting to Rivendell had been the easiest part of the quest in the end. Given that they haven’t seemed to manage it over the last ten attempts it says quite a bit about the whole doomed venture. What he needs to do is get it all straight in his mind, which isn’t happening with Kili riding next to him singing and commenting on the funny little hobbit holes. He has heard this ten times already and he would very much like to _not_ hear it again.

So, he’s going to blow off some steam, take a few hours to try and remember as much as he can, and catch up later given that he knows his way to Bilbo’s perfectly well by now.

The first thing he does is tell Kili to go on ahead once they have begun their usual encounter with the pretty hobbit lass. She flirts with him during every repeat of this journey and he’s curious to see how far she is willing to take that. He hops down from his pony and bows as he gives her his name (remembering the Bilbo told him that hobbits shake hands) and grins when she introduces herself as Azalea Took. The name rings a bell, he’s heard it during one of his past lives he’s sure, but he shrugs the familiarity of it off in favour of hobbit curiosity (rare enough), shining eyes and a delightful couple of hours under the shade of several large trees where flirtatious smiles and light touches turn into _more_. When he finally manages to break this cycle and survive, he thinks he might just come back and see if she’s willing to repeat this morning. There is a lot to be said for hobbit stamina. Ultimately, he isn’t sure that he can keep up with _her_ rather than the opposite which is usually true.

He feels almost boneless by the time they are both putting their clothes back on and Azalea is teasing the tangles from her dark curls.

“I’ve heard a lot about dwarves,” she smiles as she laces the front of her bodice, “it’s thrilling to see that so many of the stories are accurate.” She stretches her arms over her head with a happy sigh. “If you ever _do_ make it to Tookborough come and find me,” she adds, “I’d quiet enjoy a repeat of this morning.”

She does not, he notes, ask him to promise that he will seek her out again, although it wouldn’t take much to tempt him to do so. In fact, she does little more than press a heated kiss to his lips and flounce out of their secluded little glade on silent feet that barely seem to disturb the grass beneath them. He settles back against a tree, not bothering to lace his tunic closed, as he pulls out his pipe. Then he proceeds to recall everything that he can of the original quest.

It isn’t easy, he has ten additional attempts to work through as well before beginning to try and recall events from the Misty Mountains onwards. There are so many things that he could change, but, so far, every time he has tried to do so _something_ else goes wrong and someone dies as a result. The main problem he has is that it goes against every instinct and everything he has ever been taught to know what is coming and do nothing about it.

Fili isn’t an _idiot_ (thank you, Balin), for all it is nearly lunch time and if he doesn’t get moving soon he will have abandoned Kili to Thorin’s later wrath, and he has been raised with the idea that he is a future king. He’s a future king of nothing much at all without Erebor, which is beside the point, but he’s still a crown prince, Thorin is still a king, and it will be a few centuries before that slides off as a meaningless title.

He has to do something.

He cannot write it all down, when time resets itself he always wakes up in the same place wearing the same clothes he wore on that first journey into the Shire. He will have to rely on his own memory, and he knows how unreliable that can be under the best of circumstances. He starts by breaking it down into significant events, those things that stick out in his mind as important. The first is that, if possible, Bilbo needs to leave with them instead of catching them up. Things tend to run a little more smoothly that way and leaving the hobbit behind doesn’t seem to work for them, he’s tried it twice. Then the rain, and the only time he convinced Thorin to wait for it to clear they were caught by orcs before they even came near the trolls. _The trolls_, the most unpredictable problem of them all but there is no avoiding them either. The crazy brown wizard is Gandalf’s problem, and escaping the orc and warg pack tends to be luck more than anything else. Fili could move in a slightly different direction only to find that his shift has placed Dwalin in the path of an arrow. The closest they have come to Rivendell had been two attempts ago and then a jittery Ori had managed to knock Bifur off a high bridge. He would like to avoid a repeat of that, it been the most frustrating reset he has experienced so far.

After that things are a little bit more up in the air. He has no idea what he can change or how those changes will affect things. He suspects there will be little they can do to avoid the storm in the mountains, although he would like to avoid the stone giants and their trip to Goblin Town if he can. With luck that will mean avoiding Azog, which might make getting out of Thranduil’s dungeons a little easier. In fact, it might mean that they avoid Beorn and the woodland elves entirely if they have all of their own belongings. Still, he has to account for it all; Azog, Beorn, Gandalf leaving (which he needs to get the reasons for later), the odd effect of Mirkwood, the spiders, escaping the dungeons, that awful barrel ride and Kili getting shot with a poisoned arrow. Laketown, Bard, being left behind. _Samug_. Searching for the Arkenstone while watching Thorin’s sanity fall further and further away from them. Bilbo betraying them while trying to save them, the arrival of Dain and the orcs. The final terrible battle that still haunts his dreams even though he hasn’t yet experienced it. Walking confidently and blindly into what should have been a very obvious trap (hindsight is a _marvellous_ thing). His death, he isn’t overly keen on the idea of repeating that particular experience, for all he has died a few times since he got caught in this unending repeat of the quest.

There is too much he doesn’t know, too much he isn’t aware of. Especially on Bilbo’s part. Perhaps that is the key to stopping whatever has happened to him, finding out all he can about the events of the quest and then using them to ensure that the outcome is the one that is best for _him_ and his family and not for the filth that want to end the line of Durin.

He has done this ten times already, watched it go wrong in ways that he is sure it should not and he has no idea how to stop it or fix it. He has no idea how many more times he can _do_ it, except that he also knows that he cannot just turn tail and return to Ered Luin and wait for the inevitable. He makes himself more presentable, gathers his belongings and pony and catches the others up as the last of the group (minus Thorin) are arriving with Gandalf.

This time they make it into the Misty Mountains before Bilbo falls to his death during the encounter with the stone giants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you move house. For the record I like to hand write most of my stories before they get anywhere near a computer. It's more practical with small children (especially during Sunday morning lie ins) and there's the aesthetic. My other half has learnt that I am all about the aesthetic, which might be why I have an ink well and pen to go with it that I will use where possible on my desk. Just because I can. The notebook I found this story in is a leather bound handmade affair that I've had for fifteen years or so. At this point I'm just rolling with it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time they make it out of the tunnels and face Azog again Fili freezes so completely that he falls from the burning tree.

For lack of any other ideas Fili begins to try and alter what he can to make this early part of the journey easier. Convincing Thorin to wait out the rain is relatively easy and even though it failed once Fili doesn’t see the harm in trying it for a second time. Unfortunately, this leads to the same result as his first attempt and given that he is in no hurry to get them all killed any faster he decides that discomfort has to win over getting slaughtered. It means there is no chance at all of them avoiding the trolls, but the efforts he makes into getting Bilbo accepted by the Company long before reaching them (and actually paying attention to what is going on around him instead of horsing around with Kili) makes distracting the trolls easier.

It came as a surprise the first few loops to realise that Bilbo left the Shire without a weapon of any kind. He hardly recalls noticing if Bilbo had one when they left the first time around, only remembers seeing it before their first encounter with Azog, so the fact that the hobbit doesn’t acquire a weapon of any kind before the troll cave is unpleasant realisation. It becomes something that he proceeds to rectify in the beginning every time. He knows what is coming for the tiny hobbit and the fact that none of them took the time to establish that he could use his sword the first time sits ill. How much must Bilbo have picked up just by watching them?

That Bilbo doesn’t know how to use a blade, or even _owns_ one, obviously irks Thorin, and Fili frequently hears him muttering about it in the evenings when the blond prince takes the hobbit to one side to teach him what he can. It also, however, makes something like pride cross his uncle’s face whenever Fili shows Bilbo the basics. It is an expression that Thorin directs at Fili all too rarely and he finds himself warming under it, the approval something that makes Fili continue making this small change if just so that he can have a little something for himself. Thorin might insist that he will take no responsibility for Bilbo’s well-being, but he obviously approves of the idea of Fili taking the safety of his companions into consideration.

That doesn’t mean he and Kili don’t indulge in the odd prank or tease (that would be enough to arouse _anyone’s_ suspicions, and the one time he had tried telling them what had happened to him had been disastrous), the pair simply show a little more maturity, Kili following his older brother’s lead, and that brings Thorin’s approval as well.

No matter how hard he tries, however, (and he really does try) Fili is unable to convince Thorin to wait at the entrance to the High Pass for Gandalf to catch them up. He knows that his uncle is concerned about pursuit from the elves, although Fili suspects the pointy eared buggers have no intentions of trying to stop them now that they are out of Rivendell, just as he knows that time isn’t really on their side here either. Whether everything else that went wrong still _will_ if they wait for Gandalf he doesn’t know, and he wishes he could be certain one way or the other. He is aware of the route Thorin had originally planned to take, that they were meant to have ponies to speed them through, and that it would cut things close to their deadline of Durin’s Day to continue with it which is why Thorin had chosen this alternative with the help of the wizard. If they miss the deadline, they will have to continue to the Iron Hills and it will be a year until they can try again. Fili would be all for that, if not for the armies of orcs that he knows will be converging on the Lonely Mountain, and who would possibly follow them to the Iron Hills in order to exterminate the line of Durin.

Still, his uncle’s drive and determination to reach Erebor before Durin’s Day doesn’t make the thunder battle any less terrifying the third or fourth time than it was the first. Fili makes a mental note to ask about other passes the next time he goes through Rivendell (because they will end up there again), but every alternative he suggests is rejected and they end up in Goblin Town regardless. Events there reset five times before they finally make it out. Twice Fili has no idea why, but it likely has something to do with Bilbo’s disappearance, once Gandalf is cut down and the other two times it is other members of the Company. Fili is beginning to realise that his ability to predict the movements and reactions of the company and their foes in certain situations has a ripple effect that doesn’t always work out well for the dwarves. If he stops a blow before Kili can turn and stop it himself (which he always does but it’s too close for Fili’s tastes), his younger brother will take out a different goblin instead. This, however, leads to him not turning quickly enough to stop a third while Fili is dealing with a fourth. They all made it out in one piece the first time, and Fili was no where near Kili for a lot of that, so he needs to remind himself to start trusting the others to take care of themselves.

That is easier said than done.

He spends much of his time wondering why this could not have fallen on Thorin, or even _Kili_. Thorin is their leader, their king, and no one would question any changes of decision he might make. Kili may not be the one they all follow, but Fili has always been aware that, of the two of them, his little brother is Thorin’s favourite. Which makes Thorin more inclined to listen to Kili. Fili knows that his uncle has never _intended_ on playing favourites, but he also knows that he looks and acts a little bit too like Frerin (an uncle he never had the chance to meet) for Thorin to be entirely comfortable around him at times.

The first time they make it out of the tunnels and face Azog again Fili freezes so completely that he falls from the burning tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few issues with the way Thorin blatantly played favourites during the movies. I'll explore how that affects Fili a little bit more in this fic, he's going to feel it more after having it thrown in his face so much.
> 
> (Obligatory house update as usual) We have a leak in our house! We've had pretty stormy weather here in Cornwall the last few days and have discovered that one of the doors and one of the windows leak. It looks like cracked render on the outside or slipped seals but until we get a run of dry weather we can't do much about it. Which is a pain as now that we know it's there we can clearly see that it has been a problem in the past. No sooner do we solve one problem than another one comes up. At least it's only the Man Beast's study that is the issue, and hopefull it will be fixed easily enough if we just mend the cracks and redo the seals (better to fix both than to discover we fixed the wrong one). Urgh!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wakes with the sound of Kili’s anguished screams still in his ears and his own cry hoarse on his lips

He wakes with the sound of Kili’s anguished screams still in his ears and his own cry hoarse on his lips. He will never get used to dying and never forget how his brother sounds every time that he does or the agony that comes from watching the life drain from Kili’s eyes. He squeezes his eyes tightly for a moment and chokes down a muffled sob before finally opening them to see Kili’s concerned face hovering over him. For a moment all he can see is his brother’s horror at Fili’s terror and the illusion of disappointment that _must_ have been in Kili’s thoughts before he realised that Fili had fallen. For a moment, concern becomes disgust at Fili’s weakness, just as Thorin has always accused him of being, and he _knows_ it is irrational because Kili won’t remember what just happened to him, but his stomach rolls under the thought of it all the same.

He bolts.

He struggles to his feet and pushes past his brother, abandoning his bedroll and belongings to grab his pony and mount without bothering to saddle her. He simply digs his heals into her sides and urges her forwards. Dimly he hears Kili calling after him, urges Maple to go faster though he knows it’s futile because Kili has his own pony and can catch him up as easily. Which he does.

“I’m not going,” Fili all but screams once Kili has forced them to a halt. He sounds hysterical, he knows, and he doesn’t care. He can’t keep on doing it all. He can’t keep on facing death and nightmares and Thorin’s constant disappointment. “I can’t keep watching you _die_! I can’t face it again, I _won’t_! This is a fool’s quest. It’s a doomed one and I’ll have no part in it.”

Kili’s face is blurred through his brother’s tears, and he wonders when he started crying. He has no idea whether they are tears of rage or fear, sorrow or shame, there is no way to tell. He _does_ know that his words are both confusing his brother and breaking Kili’s heart.

“What are you saying?” Kili’s voice cracks. “You doubt our cause? You doubt our _uncle_?”

That is a loaded question, one he wishes he could answer with a negative except that he has _reason_ to doubt. He has seen Thorin spiralling deeper and deeper into gold sickness once, with no idea at all how it might be prevented. So, he _does_ doubt his uncle, because it may well be that when they finally reach the mountain Thorin’s descent into madness will prevent them from avoiding the terrible conflict that once took _his_ life. He may once again end up facing Azog in a battle for Erebor and he no longer believes that he can manage that, not after his reaction to finally seeing the vile creature again.

“You _do_,” Kili breathes, apparently taking Fili’s silence as answer enough. “And _me_? Do you doubt me as well?”

“No, Kee, not you,” Fili replies. “_Never_ you.” His brother’s expression softens minutely. “It never occurred to us,” he continues for lack of anything better to say and to put voice to the terrible thought that has plagued him since he woke in the past the first time, “what it might do to Amad if we both died. What will it do to her if we don’t come back?”

“We _will_,” Kili insists, although his hand dips into the pocket that Fili knows he keeps the luck stone she gave him in.

“We don’t know that,” Fili slips from his pony, surprised that his headlong flight has brought him to that same glade he spent a morning in with Azalea. It feels like lifetimes ago.

“So, you’ll abandon us?” Kili demands. “You’d turn your back on Uncle and ask _me_ to do it as well?”

“No,” Fili says softly. “Your place is with him.”

“My place is with my _brother_,” Kili spits and it hurts to hear his own words from a past life thrown back at him with such venom, “though I hardly know him.”

“If you want to go then do so,” Fili sighs. “I will not. It’s a doomed venture that will only serve to break Amad’s heart. I won’t hold it against you if you decide to join Uncle. One of us should and I am too much the coward.” It is a terrible thing to admit but it does the job well enough because Kili stiffens and his face contorts in an anger that is rarely seen (and the last time Fili remembers seeing it, his brother was arguing that they should all rush out to their deaths).

“_Fine_,” he snarls, “and what would you have me tell Thorin?”

“Whatever you like,” Fili mutters, turning away so that he doesn’t have to see his brother’s expression. “I care not.”

There is a moment of silence and then he hears Kili turn his pony without a word and ride away. Were this one of the arguments of their youth he knows that Kili would be back within an hour, eager to understand why they had the fight and what has really been going through Fili’s mind. This is _not_ such an argument. This is the kind of thing that builds walls between brothers and, if time rights itself during this turn, Fili will have to find a way to live with his self-made exile. He will never be able to go to Erebor and will not find a warm welcome in Ered Luin either. He leans against a tree and slides down it with a groan.

“Are you well?” A soft voice asks from across the road and he cracks one eye open. Azalea stands there, her dark curls wild about her face but her cornflower blue skirts are pristine. He can see that she is wary, her emerald eyes searching him for injuries or intent on harming someone and he realises that he must look terrible.

“I will be,” he mutters, his voice rasping in his throat. She crosses to him cautiously.

“Azalea Took,” she bobs a brief curtsey, “if I can be of any assistance?”

“Fili at yours,” he replies, though he does not try to stand.

“It must have been some fight,” she comments, sitting next to him heedless of the dirt on her skirts as she curls her feet under them. “If the young fellow with the dark cloud over his head who sped past me was any indication. Lover’s spat?”

“No,” he sighs, the assumption bringing no smile to his face as it usually would, he and Kili look so different that people rarely believe they are brothers. “My brother and I- I believe that what we hoped to achieve is a fool’s errand, he disagrees.” Had he really just met her he would never have divulged even _that_ much, but the times he _has_ met her (even if _she_ doesn’t remember them) have made him more inclined towards trusting her, especially the times when they have indulged in more than just conversation.

She hums.

“We can’t always agree with our family,” she replies. “You look like you could use a hot meal and a warm bed,” she adds. “I was going to visit with a cousin, but that can wait, I think. I’ve heard a great many stories about dwarves, I don’t imagine for a moment that they’re all true and you _look_ like a decent sort.” _That_, at least, makes him grin. “So, I’m hoping that you won’t make me regret taking you home with me.”

It is an offer that he isn’t going to refuse, though not because of the few glorious mornings that they have shared together in this glade. He has absolutely no idea _where_ he is going to go or what he is going to do with himself and he would think better with a meal in him. His headlong flight has left him without breakfast and he’s hungry. He accepts her offer gratefully, then gets to his feet before offering her his hand to help her up. She grins brightly at the gesture, though she is less willing to ride the pony with him and he remembers Bilbo being much the same. In the end, however, charm and flirtation wins, and she finally agrees to ride with him. It is a testament to how out of sorts his argument with Kili has left him when he appreciates the warmth of her in his arms more than her soft curves or the temptation of his memories.

“Another one of her strays, are you?” Azalea’s father asks when they turn up. “Well, then, lets get you fed and bedded down.”

He is ushered into the house (“smial, Fili,” she tells him) and presented with what they call second breakfast that is larger than any breakfast Fili has ever eaten. He eats his fill quickly, the food growing heavy in his stomach as he begins to realise that he might only have this brief day here to work out what he is going to do with himself. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to worry all that much. Azalea’s father, who it turns out is the Thain, asks Fili if he knows his way about a forge. He would be frustrated by the assumption that he is a blacksmith because he is a dwarf, but in his case, it happens to be true. Not just because of Thorin, although it being his uncle’s craft had played a part, but also because it is his calling. Most of the knives he carries are his own work and the idea of running his own forge is certainly more appealing than going off to face Azog again.

“We haven’t had a smith since old Mister Crabtree passed,” Azalea says, “and he only did it because his da was dwarf and taught him.”

Fili’s only concern, once he has cleared out the smithy and set himself up as best he can, is that Thorin will come looking for him and disrupt his plans to ignore the deadly future ahead of him. He isn’t sure if he is surprised or hurt that his uncle doesn’t even seem to _attempt_ to find out where he is, and he throws himself into his work so that he can avoid thinking about it as much as possible. Besides, Thorin’s desire to get the mountain back at any cost has been seen in previous turns and Fili doubts that his uncle would be willing to risk getting caught or stopped to persuade his cowardly nephew to rejoin the quest.

He quickly builds up a customer base, the hobbits eager to use a local smith so that they don’t have to make a special trip as far as Bree to get the work done and incur the extra cost of a night at an inn. He spends his days either in the forge or doing odd jobs for various hobbits where dwarven strength and height (not that he is all _that_ much taller than most hobbits) comes in handy. It is hard work, usually dirty, but once the hobbits fully warm to him they are friendly and welcoming. He always leaves with some coin and usually a basket of food as well. In fact, the hobbits are very eager to feed him, and they frequently offer him some of their meals even though he doesn’t need to eat anything like as much as they do (seven meals a day, how did Bilbo survive on the quest with two?). It leaves him exhausted more often than not, but he relishes it because it means that he is too tired to wonder what Kili is doing without him or where the Company might have reached by now.

That doesn’t happen until the rain, which had made life so miserable for the Company, hits the Shire. He spends two days alone in his forge, making the small commissions and repairs that are gradually trickling in. It is hot, lonely, work and it makes him wonder once again if he has done the right thing this time. He is finishing a simple repair of a hole in the base of a copper kettle when he hears laughter outside. It is a laugh he has grown familiar with over the last couple of weeks. Azalea stops by to see him most days and more often than not invites him to dinner, or at least tea. She is curious, he has learnt, but not as flighty as he had originally believed. She _is_ something of a flirt, at least with _him_, and she can spend hours asking him about the things he has seen and the ways of his people. Quite often it leads to him escorting her home in the dark and the hopeful upturn of her face when they part that he doesn’t dare take advantage of while he’s establishing himself (much as he _wants_ to). She is warm and welcoming and, he has come to realise over his weeks in the Shire, she is exactly the sort of woman he could see himself courting and probably marrying.

Which is a problem.

He pokes his head out of the door and his eyes fall on Azalea as she twirls in the rain. Her head is tipped back and her russet skirts swirl about her calves even though they are obviously soaking. Her white blouse is translucent, her shawl draped about her elbows uselessly, but she is laughing gleefully as she dances to a tune that only she can hear.

“Azalea? What are you doing?” He shouts from the door.

“Fili,” she grins brightly at him, “come and join me.”

“Come inside, you’ll freeze,” he replies.

“You’ll have to catch me!” Azalea laughs as she darts away from the door and just out of his reach.

He scowls at her and she takes a few steps closer to him, ducking his grasp when he reaches for her. He shouldn’t, he thinks, he should go back inside and continue his work because he is the _heir_ and the heir to the throne of Erebor doesn’t frolic in the rain like a dwarfling. His uncle’s voice and disapproval are loud in his mind and internally Fili snarls at it. He has made his choice this time around. He doesn’t need to be the perfect heir. He can be whoever he wants to be.

He spends the next ten minutes laughing as Azalea ducks under his arms while they slide through the mud together. Finally, though, he catches her by pinning her against the wall of the smithy and the small dwelling that is attached. He half expects her to duck away again and continue the game, and he can’t help the way that his eyes are drawn down to her heaving chest. Her modesty is preserved only by her thick bodice by this point, her fine blouse and shift cling to her skin in a way that highlights her every asset. He presses closer to her, though not so close that she cannot escape if she wants to and trails a lazy finger over the sensitive tip of her ear. She shudders against him as he steals her small gasp with a heated kiss. Azalea surges up to meet him, her fingers tangling in his sodden hair, and for a moment he forgets that they are stood where all his neighbours can see them. She tugs him inside, nimble fingers working at buckles and laces as they go, and he kicks the door closed behind him, unheeding of the heat that hits them as he blindly leads her to the small bedroom.

When they finally come together, she breathes the word _finally_ as though it is a prayer and he silently promises that this afternoon will be dedicated to their mutual pleasure.

“You’re not happy, Fili,” she says later as he trails kisses down her back.

“Of course, I am,” he huffs indignantly, nipping at the soft skin of her shoulder though they are both to spent to do more than touch one another.

“No,” she disagrees, “you’re not. You smile and you laugh, and sometimes it’s real, but not always. I’ll listen, if you want to talk about it.”

“Azalea,” he sighs. He can’t explain all of this without sounding completely insane. “Can’t we just-” He gestures to the bed, and them, and the piles of discarded clothes leading towards it. She smiles and shifts so that she can look at him properly. “It’s too late to do anything about it,” he admits finally as she draws her fingers through his hair. Ordinarily he wouldn’t allow it, but right now he needs the comfort of it, and Azalea isn’t to know that it isn’t done among his people.

“Maybe not,” she agrees, “but talking about it might still help.”

It might, but he hardly knows where to begin. Besides, time will eventually reset, he doesn’t believe for a moment that his abandoning the quest will have fixed whatever has happened to him, and he cannot keep running from his brother and relying on Azalea to set him up with a home and work. The thought of facing Azog again makes his blood run cold, but sooner or later he knows that he is going to have to.

He explains what he can of Azog, although he paints the death as that of Frerin rather than himself, and Azalea continues to run her fingers through his hair as he talks. He tells her of the terrible things he knows the orc has done and his own doubts that he will be good enough should he run into the orc again. He tells her that he knows that one day he will leave the Shire and Azog will find him and try to kill him. He admits that he is afraid to die.

Azalea doesn’t draw away like a dwarrowdam would, doesn’t stare at him in disgust or contempt. She just holds him, pulling his blankets over them both when the air in the room begins to go cool and pressing soft kisses to his cheeks when his story brings those same tears of shame and fear that he had shed the morning that he came to live in this place so near to her. She holds him as he falls asleep and is still there when he wakes to the sound of the falling rain battering against the windows.

It takes time a month to reset again, and Fili rarely spends a night without her in that time, revelling in the comfort of her presence and her warmth. He swears viciously when he wakes one morning to find himself on the ground and Kili snoring nearby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's actually quite a lot of angst for me these days. And hard to write when listening to happy music.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili had known that his time as a blacksmith in the Shire with Azalea was limited, and he had spent some of the time considering his situation

Fili had known that his time as a blacksmith in the Shire with Azalea was limited, and he _had _spent some of the time considering his situation. He had known that he would eventually have to start everything again and that as tempting as it might be to return to the quiet life, he cannot keep doing it. Whether time resets because he has been killed (by Azog or some other misfortune) or because something else has happened to the Company while he builds a life in the peace of the Shire, he will have to keep on trying again. Eventually they will make it past that first encounter with Azog, they will have to face the dark sickness of Mirkwood and the despair of the dungeons. They will have to fight their way free and make it through Laketown. Smaug, Thorin's gold sickness and the battle all await him. He has so many expectations to meet, he knows that as he knows how to breathe. He had seen it in Kili's face when he had failed to meet them, and he had felt it in his heart as he had run from the quest.

The trouble is that, having already seen Erebor he isn't sure that he will _ever_ be able to call it home. He isn't sure that he _wants_ to be more than a simple blacksmith any longer no matter what his birth right might be.

Kili's snores are cut off at the sound of Fili's vicious swearing and his brother comes awake reaching for his sword before he remembers where they are. Fili passes it off as sleeping on a stone when Kili glares at him and his brother shrugs it off good naturedly, grinning widely at the thought of getting back on the road and finally beginning the quest. Fili's thoughts are darker with the temptation to simply grab his belongings and begin the new life he had been building once again. The only thing that stops him is knowing that there is little point. The only thing that he can do is keep going until the end and hope that they make it out alive.

Which is what he starts to do.

The worst part of the first couple of repeats is seeing Azalea again, seeing her look at him with interest but no recognition and feeling the pain of that tear through his chest. Only the gradual collapse of his relationship with Thorin over the course of those repeats compares. He had thought he had made his peace with the fact that Thorin didn't even _try_ to find him during the repeat where he stayed in the Shire. He was wrong. Interacting with Azalea seems to bring back all the hurt from that loop and so for a while he doesn't stop to ask her for directions, and they find their own way. Kili always asks what is happening between Fili and Thorin, wanting to know why Fili is withdrawing further and further from their uncle when he has always strived so hard for the attention and approval of the closest thing to a father either of them has.

The awful thing is _his_ faltering relationship with his uncle is starting to affect _Kili's_ relationship with him as well. It is little secret in Ered Luin that Thorin did _not_ want their mother and father to marry. Their father, like Kili, was an archer. Thorin has only encouraged it in Kili because he can see the use of a bow on a quest such as this one. Fili takes after Frerin and duel wields as easily as he breathes. Thorin has always kept his distance from Fili, even when he was too young to comprehend any of the reasons. Fili looks too like Frerin, he acts too like Frerin, he has heard Thorin claim that Fili is Frerin reborn to constantly remind him of his every failure. Fili loves his uncle, he doesn't know how to _not_ love him, and he is dedicated to Thorin's cause, but he has come to realise that he doesn't love Thorin for himself and he doesn't keep the peace with him for himself. He does it for Kili. He avoids arguing with Thorin as much as he can for Kili's sake, not wanting to see his brother placed between his sibling and the uncle he adores. He should have expected Thorin to place the Quest over searching for him, he knows that Thorin will eventually abandon an injured Kili in Laketown and would leave him alone but for Fili and Oin insisting on staying (and Bofur missing the boat). He still resents it, though, for all that Thorin seems glad enough to see him when he arrives in Bag End.

None of his difficulties with his uncle, which gradually ease with every passing reset of time, mean that Fili stops doing what he can to change things. Within four attempts the Company is consistently making it to the Misty Mountains, avoiding bursting rivers and waiting until closer to dawn to challenge the trolls for their ponies. They lose one or two every time but given that the ponies bolt as soon as the orcs turn up Fili decides it doesn't matter. Thorin dislikes it, but Fili doesn't much care about that either. Getting to the other side of the Misty Mountains takes another six attempts to get right. He tries to avoid the stone giants and the goblins completely but, as in previous attempts, Thorin refuses to listen to advice to stay and wait or continue forwards in the storm so Fili gives up trying to avoid those dangers and concentrates on _surviving_ them.

Thorin's stubborn nature, once something that Fili had thought to emulate since a king has to be certain of his decision, begins to look like a greater weakness than any of those that Thorin claims to see in him. Such rigid thought cannot always be an advantage and a king should always be willing to listen to and consider the advice of others.

Still, if he cannot _stop_ the events in the goblin tunnels, he can at least try to come out ahead. He takes extra coin from the troll hoard and sews them into his clothes in Rivendell, he stops by the library there and finds books in the common tongue on sickness of the mind and orc weapons. He doesn't like what he reads. If the others wonder _why_ Fili is suddenly gathering funds and extra weapons, why he is shutting himself in Lord Elrond's library to _study_ of all things (and he has always enjoyed learning as much as Thorin has always insisted he needs to put more focus on his weapons and craft), none of them mention it. It would take dozens of trips for Fili to find the information he needs to heal Kili's future wound, and more still to try and find something that will help him to break through the gold sickness, but he does what he can.

Six attempts to get to the other side of the mountain seems a bit much, but it is mostly down to bad luck or slow reflexes. Seeing Azog again is hard, and after that loop Fili restarts the practice of stopping to ask Azalea for directions because at least seeing her helps to settle the shattered nerves that come from losing Thorin during _that_ encounter, and Fili quickly learns that if _he_ tries to help (still longing for some acknowledgement or approval from Thorin though he will not admit it) before Bilbo can either he or Thorin end up dead. The amusement of being challenged by a hobbit is apparently what makes the difference. Besides, no matter what Fili wants for himself the hobbit needs this so that Thorin will finally fully accept him. Fili also stops putting the energy into trying to get to Azog first and kill him, it never works, and focuses on simply keeping everyone alive to get to Beorn's where he is quick to open the latch before Thorin even comes close to the door.

He loathes Mirkwood.

He stays close to Kili when they are released from the spiders webs, the forest turns his mind about too much for him to have any effect on anything else, having no desire at all to lose sight of his brother as he did the first time around or to hear Kili's yells while the elves hold them captive. It takes _nine_ trips to get out of the dungeons without Kili getting shot by the orc arrow and five of those times are instantly fatal to his brother while the other four times one or other of them is killed once they have made it through the gate.

"I don't care _how_ you turn yourself invisible," Fili snarls at Bilbo having seen it in a couple of previous loops, "_do it_ and get up there to open the gates." He points at the bridge that has been built over the river.

"What gates?" Bilbo asks in alarm.

"They wouldn't have built that thing or placed guards on it unless they had a way to close off the river," Fili points out, the walls on either side aren't overly high but they are enough to hold an enemy at bay for long enough for reinforcements to arrive .

He heaves Bilbo onto the shore and the hobbit vanishes from sight. Fili can see wet footprints making their way up the stone steps as the barrels begin to halt (he and Kili always take the two barrels that will fall into the river last these days).

"Wait," he calls to Kili who, as always, seems poised to deal with the situation.

Orcs are screaming and dying, as are elves, and Fili catches a glimpse of the guard captain staring at them all in confused irritation as the gate lifts and they start moving again. There is a splash and a splutter as his barrel races through the opening and Fili reaches into the river calling for the hobbit until he feels a small, icy hand grab his. He hauls Bilbo into the barrel, for once glad that he isn't yet as broad as many of the others but is still alarmed at how much it dips under the extra weight.

They fight their way down the river and miraculously make it to the shallows without any injuries. Fili double checks Kili anyway, because in his opinion fate is a bit of a bitch, but aside from a few scrapes and bruises there is nothing worth commenting on. Getting into Laketown is easier when he doesn't have to worry about Kili and with the addition of the gold that Fili has still managed to keep hold of after sewing the coins into his tunic. Bard is as suspicious as Fili remembers but he does his best to warn the Man of what is coming, it would be poor thanks for his help to get him and his children killed. The plan, as always, is to avoid the notice of the Master of Laketown.

Fate _is_ a bitch.

It isn't Kili stumbling that gets them noticed. It is simply the unfortunate timing of them coming around a corner at just the wrong moment. It is annoying but unavoidable and at least he manages to get _everyone_ into the boats the following morning. It isn't until he reaches Erebor that it occurs to Fili to wonder what will happen to Bard and his children when the orcs turn up. This is all too much for one dwarf to keep track of, he thinks miserably.

As it turns out, being incinerated by an irate dragon isn't quite as quick as one might assume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who thinks Fili should get a happy ending in this? What do we think his happy ending should be? I've got a couple of ideas either way and I'm up in the air about which I'm going to go with. I can't write three different endings, well I COULD but I don't want to.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili is still reeling from getting, literally, torched by Smaug and being so close to ending this whole mess when he makes a mistake on their trip into Hobbiton

Fili is still reeling from getting, literally, torched by Smaug and being so _close_ to ending this whole mess (because it _has_ to end when they get through the quest and everyone survives) when he makes a mistake on their trip into Hobbiton. He hasn't heard a single word that Kili has said all morning, too busy sympathising with Bilbo's initial reaction of passing out at the thought of being burnt alive and wondering if there is any way to get Bofur to keep his mouth shut so that he doesn't have the same reaction as the timid hobbit.

The more he does this, the more amazed he continually is at Bilbo's transformation. Given his train of thought, therefore, he can almost be forgiven for saying: "Could you please direct us to Bilbo Baggins?" instead of asking how to get to Hobbiton.

"Bilbo?" Azalea exclaims. "What business could two dwarves possibly have with _Bilbo_ of all hobbits?"

Kili gives him a withering look, no doubt one of many that he has picked up from Thorin over the years.

"That is the name we were given," Kili replies. "We were to meet with him and other members of our company at his home."

"Bilbo Baggins?" She repeats. "Of _Bag End_? In Hobbiton? You're quite certain?" There is a note of laughter in her voice that Fili understands and secretly wants to join in with. He has to play his own part, however.

"Unless there is another by that name?" Fili asks, deciding that he might as well continue it now that he has made the mess. Besides, the outcome might be interesting enough to take his mind off Smaug for a while.

"There's only one cousin Bilbo," she replies with a twist of her lips and he remembers her surprise at his disappearance in a previous life.

"You're related?" Kili asks, obviously seeing the chance to find out more about their future burglar. "Are you close?"

"His mother was my father's sister," she responds. "Although most hobbit families are connected in some way or another," she shrugs. Hobbit family trees are complicated, he knows. "But inviting two dwarves to his smial is more _Tookish_ that I would have expected of him."

Actually, he's invited thirteen of us," Kili grins and Fili groans, not just because his brother is handing out information to a hobbit he doesn't know is trustworthy (even though Fili knows that she is), but also because Fili knows for certain that Bilbo has no idea at all that they're all coming.

"_Thirteen_?" She responds and this time she does laugh. "Oh, this I _have_ to see."

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," Fili cuts in quickly. "I don't think our leader will-"

"Nonsense," she waves his objections off before he can voice them. "It would be incredibly rude of Bilbo to have you all to dinner without a proper hostess present, and I'm sure he could use the help besides. Yavanna knows _Lobelia_ won't lower herself to offer. I've done it for him a few times since Aunt Belladonna passed and I'm not as judgemental as the Baggins lot."

"I don't think Thorin would mind too much," Kili leers and Azalea raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "If it's the local thing."

Fili still hesitates. Thorin _will_ mind and he will blame Fili for his loose tongue before he does Kili, although his brother will always come to his defence. A future king should know how to hold his tongue, Fili knows, and Kili has always been more easily forgiven his slips than Fili even though he feels Thorin's ire _more_ when it is directed at him.

"I can show you where to put your ponies," Azalea adds.

Against his better judgement, he lets _that_ decide the matter. It always takes longer than he would like to get the ponies stabled. The innkeeper seems almost _more_ wary of them than the Men often are. It also bites deeply into the pockets of all of the Company and Fili is acutely aware of how much they will need those funds in later days. Besides, having his lively cousin around _may_ keep Bilbo from fretting quite as much as he does and help to make a better first impression.

"Very well," he sighs, wondering if the pair of them will back him up later if he decides to plead ignorance over her presence, "but you'll ride with me."

"Why you?"

"I'm the eldest," he grins.

The irrationally jealous part points out that he doesn't want Kili feeling her plump curves or inhaling her light lavender scent. _Is it possible,_ he wonders,_ to fall in love with someone based on short meetings that **she** will never remember_?

"Is_ that_ how it is?" She laughs. "And what if I'm partial to the younger?"

Her lips quirk in a way he has been intimately acquainted with in the past and he slides from his mount to help her onto the pony, leaning close and allowing the braids of his moustache to brush her sensitive ears. She gasps at the touch and he smirks.

"Then you are most certainly destined for disappointment, lass," he breathes. "He couldn't handle one such as you." Kili makes an outraged noise.

"And you think _you_ can?" She challenges.

"I'd give it a fair go, make no mistake," he replies, meeting her eyes with a wink. Then he is lifting her effortlessly, relishing her squeak of surprise before settling behind her with a chuckle.

"That wasn't nice," she admonishes.

He can't help but laugh. For all he has resisted revisiting his earlier romps and indulging in the distraction she offers, preferring to keep their interactions to a request for directions or not talking to her at all, it is better than he had dared to imagine to hold her again. It is very possible that he is in more trouble than he had realised.

With Azalea's help they take several shortcuts and arrive in Hobbiton just as the sun is beginning to set. They talk idly as they ride, avoiding the reason the dwarves are going to see Bilbo, trading stories of childhood mischief with brief interruptions where Azalea points out an area of interest. It is a much nicer way to spend the ride to the village. When they get there, she instructs them to carry on riding for a short time, until they come to a meadow near Bag End.

"It belongs to my cousin, if he's expecting you, he won't mind," she says.

Fili feels a twinge of guilt. Bilbo most certainly _isn't_ expecting them, but the first time around neither of them had known that and to hint that it might be the case will certainly arouse Kili's suspicion. They make their way up the path together, Fili surprised to note a white head that seems to resemble Balin's is some distance behind them. He'll need to try this again if it doesn't change too much for the worse. Perhaps it will ease the way for Bilbo a little more. The hobbit is certainly nervous when he opens the door, but not as flustered as he usually is, intimidated by Dwalin's presence. That isn't surprising, Fili knows a large number of far more hardened warriors who are unnerved by Dwalin. Fili and Kili introduce themselves as seriously as they always do, but before Bilbo can stumble through his own response Azalea bursts into hysterical giggles behind them.

"How long did you two spend practising _that_?" She chortles and they part in semi-offended silence to let her past. "Hello, Cousin," she says fondly and the pair embrace. Then she frowns and looks at Bilbo closely. "You don't look dressed as someone about to receive thirteen dinner guests. Why didn't you ask for help?"

"_Thirteen_?" Bilbo splutters and Azalea frowns with a glance over her shoulder at them. Here it comes. "I never invited- I didn't even know they were _coming_ until the first one showed up!"

"We were told you were expecting us," Fili shrugs as Kili shoulders his way past Bilbo to greet Dwalin, who has come to investigate the noise. "The wizard gave us your name and the mark is on the door as he said it would be."

"Wizard? _Gandalf_?" Bilbo scowls. "No. I'm not having thirteen strange dwarves in my smial." Fili is about ready to write this whole loop off now.

"Now, Cousin," Azalea placates while leading him back inside. At some point Balin has arrived and is watching the exchange with concern. "This is hardly their fault, and obviously they aren't arriving all at once, will you spend all evening coming to the door to tell them to go away?" Bilbo splutters something. "There's no call for _us_ to be rude just because the old Grey One is. I'm here, and I'll help but we might as well make the best of this and you can give Gandalf a piece of your mind when he gets here. Now, go and get dressed. I'm sure Fili and Kili will help move the furniture around a little while I get a hot meal started. Do you still have those pies mother sent over?" Her cousin nods. "Good. Then we'll show them some proper hobbit- _Don't. You. Dare_!" She shouts to Kili who is poised to wipe his boots on the old chest in the hall, just as he always does. "Get those _filthy_ things off! Big Folk, _honestly_."

"Proper hobbit hospitality?" Bilbo finishes with a weak smile.

Azalea doesn't even blush, she simply proceeds to order them around like a tiny War Master as she ties her curls back with a length of yellow ribbon weighted with two silver beads that she had been wearing around her neck. Dwalin, naturally, objects, but goes along with it when Fili and Kili start to follow her rapid instructions. Kili follows because Fili is doing as he is told. Fili obeys her because in a past life he has been on the receiving end of her ladle. He would much rather _eat_ her cooking than be battered by her implements. By the time the rest of the Company (less Thorin) arrives the smial is filled with the smell of cooking and a spread of cold foods has been laid out over the table that leaves it groaning. Bilbo is noticeably more relaxed, having _not_ been overwhelmed by a bunch of dwarves who completely ignore his fussing, and Dwalin and Balin are obviously more impressed with hobbit hospitality. They relax even more when Bilbo informs them that it _is_, in fact, customary to have a hostess to help take care of the guests when the number expected is more than four. The two hobbits fuss and flitter about, although they have clearly hosted dinners together a few times, and Azalea sets aside a plate for Thorin when Fili asks her to (in the hopes that a good meal might further improve his uncle's mood). Bilbo is _less_ wound up when Gandalf arrives, but that means that his confrontation with Gandalf is louder and clearer, with the wizard less able to dissemble his way out of it as he would if Bilbo were more upset. Truthfully, Fili quite enjoys seeing the wizard properly called out for springing all of this on the hobbit.

Fili still enjoys the clean up after the feast, no matter how many times he does it, and though Azalea's momentary disappearance makes him less inclined towards showing off, he throws himself into it all the same. Her outraged squawk is almost as satisfying as Bilbo's fuming. He doesn't miss the amused smirk she throws his way, however, when Bilbo isn't looking, or the way that she has flirted with him all evening.

Apparently, _that_ carries through every life he lives.

"Fili asked me to save you a meal," she says coldly to Thorin when he is finally sat at the dinner table.

Her reaction to his uncle's treatment of her cousin had been one of barely contained outrage that Fili knows he should have expected. In fact, it had only _been_ contained because Fili had been quick to slip an arm about her waist and pull her against him with a warning glare.

"Your leader is an _arse_," she had whispered before flouncing into the kitchen to get the food she had saved for his uncle.

Thorin nods to him, breaking Fili's thoughts, and Fili returns it, surprisingly less eager for his uncle's approval now that he has seen where that desire seems to lead.

"I've made up the spare rooms, Bilbo," Azalea says, without looking at Thorin who is scowling up at this unexpected addition, her words loud enough to be heard by all. "I've put blankets and cushions into the parlour as well, for those that won't fit in the bedrooms. I'm sure your guests are eager to explain why they've invaded unannounced this evening. I'm going to retire." Her barbed words make more than one member of the Company shift uncomfortably and Thorin turns a steely gaze on Gandalf, who is watching Azalea with an unreadable expression.

"Of course, Cousin," Bilbo squeezes her hands with a weak smile. "Thank you for all of your help tonight."

"Always," she assures him and turns her gaze on the Company, searching until her eyes meet Fili's. "It's been a _pleasure_ meeting you," she smiles. "Well, most of you. Goodnight."

"I think you're in there, nadad," Kili mutters to him as Fili watches her walk away.

He smirks at his younger brother. Hopefully, he'll be able to sneak away before she falls asleep. As the discussion into reclaiming the Arkenstone and getting into Erebor begins, he starts to wonder if _seeing_ her might be a better idea than listening to everything that he has already heard dozens of times. He can clearly remember being incinerated and it becomes clearer with every passing word. It makes him feel sick and dizzy and he doesn't blame Bilbo at all for fainting. He sort of wishes that he could do it himself.

Thorin's rolled eyes and dark expression is, as always, directed at Gandalf, who looks mildly at the unconscious hobbit with wryly twisted lips. Bofur, at least, manages to look a little guilty and Fili takes advantage of the others moving and fussing to slip away.

"I'll fetch his cousin," he says while Dori carries Bilbo to a comfortable chair.

Oin will poke and prod at him, but Fili thinks Bilbo will prefer the gentle hands of his kinswoman than the heavy digits of an aged healer. Thoirn nods approvingly at him, seeming to miss the pallor of his cheeks (and Fili is grateful for that), and he quickly pads through the smial. He knows where the spare rooms are, has explored extensively in his previous lives, so it doesn't take him long to find the room that Azalea has claimed for herself. She opens the door only a crack when he knocks, but her eyes light up and she ushers him in when she realises who it is. Passion is quickly replaced by concern, however, when she sees his expression.

"Is there something wrong?" She asks, moving away from the door and to the bed where she has placed her blouse and bodice. Her skirts are loose, and he can see that she had obviously been readying herself for bed.

"Your cousin needs you," he tells her, "he fainted." She looks at him in alarm.

"What did you _do_?" She demands, quickly pulling on her blouse and fastening the delicate buttons with swift fingers.

"_Nothing_," he replies a little too quickly. "We simply told him why Gandalf directed us to him."

"And _why_ is that?" She demands, fastening her skirt before pulling the bodice over her head. "Or do I not want to know?"

"Quite possibly not," he admits. "And I doubt Thorin would be pleased if I told you."

"Oh, yes," she snarls, tugging on her laces, "let us do everything in our power to keep the rude one happy."

"He _is_ my king," Fili shrugs.

"What use have hobbits for kings?" She shrugs, marching past him. "My father is the Thain but he would never dream of behaving like _that_." The Thain, Fili knows, is very little like a king, but he supposes the point stands.

"Just a swoon lass," he hears Oin say when Azalea storms into the parlour. Thorin stops him before he can follow her.

-**Keep an eye on what the burglar tells her**\- He signs and Fili nods. Azalea is trustworthy, but he's aware that none of the others know her at all and nor should he.

"Let's have a look at you, Bilbo," she says when Fili pauses in the door out of Bilbo's line of sight.

"I'm _fine_, Azalea, just a little overwhelmed."

"Still, it's not like you to swoon, Bilbo, and the treatment for it is the same whether it's a crotchety old bachelor or an overwhelmed lass at the midsummer feast. Tea and a sweet biscuit for you, cousin," she orders. Fili can well imagine the annoyed expression that crosses Bilbo's face in that moment. "What bought this on?"

"They want me to burgle a _dragon_!" Bilbo exclaims and Azalea's eyes slide to where Fili is leaning in the door. She arches an eyebrow but keeps her attention primarily on her cousin.

"And are you going to?" She asks.

"_That's_ the only reply you have? It ridiculous! I'm a hobbit, not a burglar! I'm not going, of course I'm not!" A pause. "And neither are _you_."

"I know."

"I'm serious, Azalea."

"So am I," she smiles softly. "Do you honestly think I've worked as hard as I have over the last two years to throw it all to one side now? I'm not going to run off with a bunch of dwarves when I'm this close with so many young ones relying on me. You know me better than that."

"I do, and you're a wonderful teacher, but you're a _Took_ surely the idea of an adventure appeals to you."

"A year ago I might have considered it," she shrugs. "I know Uncle would have been against the whole idea, but what of Aunt Belladonna?"

"She would have thought the whole thing a tremendous opportunity and been out of the front door before father could stop her," Bilbo admits. "You know how important home was to her. She wouldn't have turned away if she thought for a moment that she could help the dwarves take back theirs." That surprises Fili, because later Bilbo will express a similar sentiment and it never occurred to him that the value placed upon a home may have come from somewhere other than the hobbit's own homesickness.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Azalea pats his hand. "I think you believe that you've already made up your mind. Just take a few hours to pack a bag and put your affairs in order anyway, just in case you change your mind," she advises, and it is remarkably sound. "You've been meaning to do it for ages anyway. I can take it all to my father in the morning if need be. After that, if you're still set on staying, you've only lost a couple of hours and done something you should have sorted out ages ago. If you _do_ change your mind, you will have started on the right foot. Will you be alright?"

"Go to bed, Azalea," Bilbo mutters. "If I decide to leave I promise I won't do it without saying goodbye. And, _thank you_."

Azalea doesn't pause as she walks past Fili out of the room. She simply grabs his sleeve and tugs him down the corridor. He goes willingly, even though he suspects that this isn't going to end the way he would prefer.

"Promise me," she hisses, "if he goes with you, _promise me_ you'll look after him. Promise me you won't let that king of yours bully him. Promise me you'll bring him home."

At least one of those will be easy enough to keep, he's done it since time started repeating itself anyway. He can manage the others as well, although the last will only be achievable when he finally breaks the loop he is trapped in.

"I promise," he says anyway, pressing his hand over his heart, "I'll even bring him back to you myself."  
His words cause the atmosphere between them to shift. She stares up at him, her emerald eyes searching his face and he wonders what she sees there. Then she rises up to press a kiss to his cheek. It doesn't take much to lean down as she pulls away and capture her lips with his. It takes even less to walk her down the corridor and lose himself in her. Again.

He is in so much more trouble than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I can be nice to him.
> 
> Solved the problem of the leaking door and window. I said split seals, the Man Beast said cracks in the render. Guess who was right? Doesn't happen often. Now I just need someone who isn't going to charge a second mortgage to refurbish my landing floorboards.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea’s presence doesn’t make a huge amount of difference to the beginning of the quest

Azalea’s presence doesn’t make a huge amount of difference to the beginning of the quest, aside from the fact that she makes them all a heartier breakfast than they have managed in previous loops (due to having the sense to put something aside for it) and she wakes Bilbo so that he can leave with them in a far better mood than he has ever been when Fili has tried it. Her presence the previous night gives them all something else to talk about as well. Much as he had hoped otherwise, however, Fili _had_ been missed the night before and his companions are quick to draw the right conclusions. Kili, Bofur and Nori all tease him fairly mercilessly about it, although Kili will later say that it is good to see him take some time for himself instead of focusing on pleasing Thorin, and Bilbo is slightly cooler with him as a result. That settles after a few days, though, once Fili resumes his habit of teaching Bilbo to use a knife should he need it and assures the hobbit that he has every intention of returning with him to the Shire once all is said and done in any case.

“Good,” Bilbo replies around a finger, having just misjudged a block and blocked Fili’s stick (because Bilbo is useless with a real sword at this point and Fili isn’t taking any chances of hurting him) with his hilt rather than the blade. “It’s happened in her family before, you know, on her mother’s side. It’s taken the gossips a long time to let that lie and I would hate for it to all start up again.”

Fili doesn’t have a reply to that and lets the matter drop instead of puzzling over it too much. If he doesn’t manage to fix things during this loop he will have ample time to puzzle over it in future ones. He still sticks as best he can to the plans and actions that he knows actually _work_. They successfully get into the mountain this time and he manages to avoid flaming death by the skin of his teeth and a distressing amount of singed hair.

“It’s going to have to come off, lad,” Balin says as Oin rubs one of his salves on the blistered skin of Fili’s neck and shoulders, and it takes a truly intense heat to burn a dwarf.

He is glad that his coat is still in the Mirkwood dungeons, he’s grown incredibly attached to it over the endless repeats of this quest. It had been a gift from his mother, and it feels like centuries since he last saw her, and has been a great comfort to him. In Mirkwood it is in one piece, he doesn’t think he could accept the loss of that too.

“It can’t be _that_ bad?” He asks and sees Kili flinch.

Sitting still while his brother cuts off the crisp ends of what remains of his most eye-catching feature is agonising. Kili whispers apologies the entire time and does the best he can to make it neat and even, but Fili knows that he is going to look ridiculous for _years_ until it grows back fully. He may well take the excuse of escorting Bilbo back to the Shire as a reason to hide there for a couple of years, and if that means spending more time with Azalea, he can be happy with it. _If_ they all survive, that is.

This time he gets to watch Thorin spiral down the murky path of gold madness from the start. He even notices that it touches the others to a degree, though not as swiftly or as deeply as it does his uncle. No matter what he says, how loudly he shouts or tries to reason, Thorin will not hear him. As frustrating as it had been to have his advice disregarded during the course of so many of the repeats of this quest Thorin had always, at least, acknowledged the words. Now it is as though he looks through Fili completely, sneering at his cut hair and thinking only of the Arkenstone. Even Kili gets little more than a glance and his brother begins to avoid Thorin’s notice as much as Fili tries to _get_ it. It hurts, even though Fili knows that his relationship with Thorin is not as deep or close as Kili’s, even though he knows that Thorin will probably always see him as a reminder of a brother lost to war and not quite the heir that he wanted. It hurts to see the uncle that he still loves, despite his harsh words and occasionally unreasonable demands (even his mother has argued with Thorin over his treatment of Fili), vanish. Thorin is gone, _again, _and Fili has no idea how to get him back. If it can even be done at all. Thorin’s obsession with the gold and the Arkenstone is absolute and it isn’t until Bard shows up with an army of elves that Fili realises that Bilbo has probably had the thing all along.

“I know you have it,” he says when he finally manages to get Bilbo alone.

The hobbit stares at him in alarm.

“What? No, no, I don’t. I haven’t got anything,” Bilbo is obviously nervous, his eyes darting around and his hand clutching at something in his pocket.

“I’m neither blind nor an idiot, Bilbo,” he hisses. “You may have convinced Thorin, but the gold has blinded him,” not to mention that Fili has lived this before.

“What would you do if I did?” Bilbo challenges when he sees that no one else is near enough to hear their conversation. “Would you give it to Thorin?”

“He is my _king_,” Fili insists, as though that’s the obvious answer. He does wonder, though, why the gold hasn’t touched him or Kili, wonders why the others seem less taken by it as well. He believes, however, that the reason it has taken Thorin so quickly is down to the dragon and not the Arkenstone or the weakness in his line.

“Balin thinks finding the stone would make it all worse,” the hobbit whispers urgently. “Thorin is changed, the dwarf I know would never go back on his word like this. He is not himself.”

“No,” Fili agrees, “he is not, but it is not for us to determine what to do about it. The Arkenstone is his birth right, as is this mountain, and I would see it returned to him. Give it to me.”

“Fili, I don’t think-”

“Give me the Arkenstone, Bilbo,” he says more forcefully.

The hobbit must see something in his face because he straightens and his hand strays towards his letter opener. Fili has had ample time, however, to raid the armoury for replacements for the numerous blades he lost in Mirkwood (although he manages to hide one or two every time now) and though they are not his own work they are fine enough. He has selected more this time than he did the first time around, and he has several that he could draw before Bilbo could hope to unsheathe his sword. With or without a blade, however, Bilbo stands little chance against Fili and the hobbit must realise it because his face falls and he sighs.

The Arkenstone is wrapped in a scrap of cloth, probably once part of a tapestry, and when Fili unwraps it, he is startled by the way it glows and the shift of colours beneath the surface. He can see _why_ a person would covet this jewel above all others, why it would be called the Heart of the Mountain. His grip on it tightens. Thorin is gold sick and likely as mad as Thror once was. He could take the stone, use it to declare _his_ right to his uncle’s throne, stop the madness and rule under the mountain with Kili (ever loyal) at his side. Darkness dances at the edge of his mind, a whisper of wealth and power that could be his to command if he were only to overthrow his uncle, kill him if necessary and it is _that_ which causes him to turn away from the seductive light and look into the concerned eyes of the hobbit.

“Smaug said he was tempted to let me take it so that he could watch it twist Thorin’s mind,” his friend says, and after that too long moment of temptation Fili can well believe it. “You can’t give it to him, Fili. You mustn’t.”

“I have to,” Fili replies softly, regretfully.

“Indeed, you do,” he hears Thorin say behind him, and he turns wide blue eyes on the dark form of his uncle.

Thorin’s face is thin, greying and shadowed. There is only the barest spark of warmth in his blue eyes that are so deeply tinged with gold and madness. Fili feels fear clench in his stomach and has to resist the urge to take a step away from the way Thorin’s eyes glint as they look him over. He barely dares to breathe when Thorin steps close.

“Well done, my sister’s son,” his uncle says and there is a warmth in his voice that, once upon a time, Fili had longed for above anything. The dangerous gleam shifts to pride as Thorin touches their heads together tenderly. “You will be rewarded when the threat at our gates has been dealt with. As for _you_, master burglar,” Fili is alarmed as Thorin turns, one of _his_ knives in his hand, and grasps Bilbo’s shoulder, “a traitor must always be given his due reward the moment it is earnt.”

Fili has time for a strangled cry before Thorin plunges the blade into the frozen hobbit’s throat with an enraged snarl and eyes so dark that Fili doesn’t recognise him. He reaches for his own sword, the shame of his failure to keep his promise to Azalea tearing through him and his eyes blurred with angry tears.

He very nearly sobs with relief when he wakes up in the Shire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like writing dark!Thorin, or Gold sick Thorin or any of the other associated version of him, but there's quite a bit of him in the upcoming chapters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He certainly doesn’t want the crown. Not like this.

After the ease of the last journey, of Bilbo’s beginning with the Company running so much more smoothly simply because he was more at ease the night that they all met, Fili is quick to repeat his ‘mistake’ of letting slip their destination to Azalea. It helps him as well, to hold her soft body against his and find comfort in her presence even if she has no idea who he is. Easing Bilbo’s evening also helps to lessen the guilt that gnaws at him as he remembers how he failed his friend and his lover, as he remembers that he got Bilbo killed over that thrice damned stone. He’ll need to be more careful, he thinks, to either ensure that Thorin is better distractedbefore he confronts Bilbo at all or that he simply allows things to play out as they did before and concentrates on working out _how_ to avoid being killed by Azog in the tower on Ravenhill (aside from _not_ going into the tower in the first place).

He still seeks the comfort of Azalea’s bed, though truth be told he is beginning to feel more and more like he shouldn’t. It feels wrong, somehow, to know so much about her that there is little question about whether she will invite him to join her. He knows the words to say, the looks to give and the actions to take and even though he knows that she _wants_ him to come to her, he cannot help but feel that he has manipulated the situation too much. He doesn’t promise her outright to fulfil her request of protecting Bilbo, acutely aware that he has failed once, and instead tells her that he will do everything in his power to bring her cousin, or word of him, back to her. Azalea frowns at him but accepts it when he reminds her that they are all off to face a dragon.

He refuses to put his fears about his uncle’s sanity into words in front of her.

He is so close to solving this mystery of looping time that he can almost taste it by the time they reach Erebor. It takes very little effort on his part to make sure that they get to the mountain this time, his actions during the early parts of the quest are automatic and he has invested too much energy into getting them _that_ far to allow himself to make another mistake. There is, however, still the matter of the Elves and Men to solve, and the massive orc army that is on the way. Fili is also beginning to have questions about _when_ the madness first starts to affect Thorin, no longer able to tell if his uncle’s need to reclaim the mountain is about retrieving his home or his grandfather’s gold.

“Balin,” he stops his old teacher as the other leaves to follow Thorin’s orders, “when you write to Dain tell him to bring as many warriors as he can. Double what he thinks he needs.”

“I hardly think that will be necessary, laddie,” Balin smiles genially.

“And if the Men of Laketown decide to take the treasure from us?” Fili asks. “Their homes were likely destroyed by the dragon, I doubt they will be feeling overly generous towards us. And we didn’t leave Mirkwood under the best terms either. What if Thranduil comes and tries to simply _take_ what he believes he is owed?”

He can see Balin considering his words, though he knows that even without the gold starting to addle his mind Thorin would brush the concerns aside as ridiculous. Thorin, in fact, would see it as a weakness. Balin, however, always seems to remain mostly neutral with the aim of a peaceful solution. Such a resolution can only be brought forth, however, from a position of strength and a mountain occupied by only fourteen souls is _not_ a strong position. Balin is loyal to Thorin, utterly so, but Fili knows that the worst his request will do is paint Thorin as cautious, perhaps overly so if nothing comes of it, with their newly reclaimed home. Fili certainly does _not_ believe that it is a weakness to want to protect what is theirs from those who would take it from them, no matter _what_ Thorin might say.

“You may have a point,” Balin allows, “but _you’ll_ be the one to tell your uncle it was _your_ idea.”

“Of course,” Fili doesn’t bother to hide his relieved smile, or mention the fact that he has no intentions at all of talking to Thorin about this unless it becomes necessary.

They part ways and the younger goes in search of Bilbo. The hobbit is hidden in a far corner of the treasure chamber, his hands busy with a gold coin and his eyes distant with thought.

“Bilbo?”

The hobbit startles violently and Fili feels a twinge of guilt for that. Sacring his friend is not his goal. He only wants to keep Bilbo safe. Fili has been through enough loops to know that his uncle’s fondness for the hobbit runs deeper than he is willing to admit or acknowledge (and it’s unlikely he ever will), but the gold sickness will take even _that_ from them. It will take the deepest and most meaningful of relationships and destroy them. Fili has heard stories of Thror’s sickness, he has deliberately probed for them since they reached Erebor the first time, but they have not helped him to understand why Thorin fell so quickly and drastically.

“You startled me,” Bilbo says breathlessly, his fingers twitching towards his pockets in a gesture that Fili has been intrigued to note only ever starts _after_ the goblin tunnels.

“I’m sorry,” he replies, “I didn’t intend-”

“No, no,” Bilbo shakes his head. “It’s fine. Really. I was lost in my own thoughts.” He glances out over the vast expanse of the gold. “Is Thorin-”

“'-searching for the Arkenstone?'” Fili finishes. “He is, but I think we _both_ know that he won’t find it.” Bilbo’s eyes go wide, but he must see something in Fili’s face because he sags.

“How did you know?” He doesn’t even _try_ to deny it, reaching into his other pocket.

“I don’t want it,” Fili steps back, it’s been months, but he still remembers his reaction the last time he touched the thing. “Just take it to him, now, and hand it over.”

“Smaug said it would drive him mad,” the hobbit disagrees.

“The gold is already doing _that_,” Fili shakes his head. “With luck, giving him the stone will remind him of why we came.”

Bilbo dithers for a long moment and Fili decides to allow it for a short time, at least as long as it will take him to find more weapons. When he returns from finding the same swords and knives he had taken possession of last time (except the one that Thorin used to kill Bilbo, that one had been chucked into the fire in the great forge) Thorin is loudly proclaiming to all of the gathered Company that Bilbo is the greatest gift that Gandalf could have given them. The Arkenstone is clutched tightly in one hand and Bilbo’s shoulder gripped by the other one. The hobbit looks uncomfortable when the dwarf king makes mention of all of the jewels and splendour he will heap upon Bilbo once restorations are underway. Fili actually suspects that Bilbo has very little intention of staying in Erebor, regardless of what promises may have been made on the side of the blond prince, since he has a very nicely appointed smial back in the Shire with all of the comforts and ‘mathoms’ (a word he had picked up from Azalea) he could possibly want. Besides, even if Bilbo decided to stay, he would have things that he would want to bring back to the mountain, heirlooms and the like.

Instead of sifting through endless piles of gold searching for the Arkenstone, Thorin has the Company begin the process of sorting through it and organising it all. The darkness of the gold is still upon him but the possessive streak that comes with it is uglier than the last times Fili had seen it. It makes Fili uneasy, as it does Kili, and they spend much of the time that they should be sorting the gold and gems watching as Thorin either polishes the jewel or tugs Bilbo close to his side as though he thinks someone will try to take them from him or that Bilbo will vanish at any moment. Nor does Thorin sleep all that much and because he doesn’t sleep the rest of the Company gets little more than the odd hour. He pushes them hard, forcing them to clear bodies from side chambers with little care or respect for those who fell to Smaug’s fire.

The gold sickness touches the others less than it once did, the dragon’s vile spell not able to withstand the disgust they all feel at being told to cast the remains of fallen kin into the nearest mineshaft. It turns their thoughts from gold to rebellion, plants the idea that Thorin is unfit to be king, that the crown should pass to Fili _now_ before Dain arrives and makes it more difficult. It would be easy to pass Thorin’s death off as Smaug related and throw _him_ down a mineshaft.

Fili and Kili listen to the mutters in growing horror, even Balin and Dwalin whose loyalty has never been in question are nodding in quiet agreement. Fili’s relationship with Thorin has all but collapsed after his experience the last time they reached Erebor, but he knows that rebellion is not the solution to this mess and he certainly doesn’t _want_ the crown. Not like this.

Not at all.

All the while, poor Bilbo ends up all but chained to Thorin’s side and it is the hobbit that the brothers dedicate most of their efforts towards. Thorin will not hear them if they try to warn him of the plots, he’s too far into his madness for that, and if they tell him that the others are plotting he’ll probably kill all of them in their sleep and barricade himself into the mountain until Dagor Dagorath comes. Bilbo’s face is becoming increasingly thin with lack of food, Thorin hardly eats and barely allows the others to approach with something for Bilbo, and his eyes are dull and listless from lack of sleep and loss of hope. This is _Fili’s_ fault, the prince decides, because Bilbo would be as healthy as the rest of them right now if Fili hadn’t pushed the hobbit to give Thorin the jewel.

They manage to get a moment with Bilbo, when Thorin has passed out from lack of sleep and the herbs Kili had slipped into some water, and they urge the hobbit to run. He shakes his head slowly, a desperate sound escaping his chapped lips as he looks up at them.

“He would blame you,” he says. “He would hurt you.”

“He won’t,” Kili tries to assure the hobbit, but his usual confidence is missing from his voice. “We’re his heirs.” Fili remains silent, as certain as Bilbo that if Thorin thinks that they had a hand in the hobbits escape for a moment his wrath will be quick and deadly.

“We’ll follow,” Fili says, at this point all they can do is run and hope that they don’t come across one of the multiple armies converging on this place. “I won’t stay with Thorin like this and the others planning rebellion. I won’t take the crown this way.”

“I have a way of going unseen,” Bilbo reminds him, “but how will the two of you get out?”

“We’ll find a way,” Fili assures him, “meet us in Dale in two days, now run before he wakes.”

They escort the hobbit to the blocked gates, relieving Bofur of his watch so that they can lower a rope and give Bilbo time to scramble down.

Thorin’s rage upon waking is a terrifying thing to behold and Fili can only watch in horror as Thorin charges for Bofur, who should have been on watch, and is cut down by Dori and Nori. **** <strike></strike>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a couple more dark Thorin chapters after this one. My mini crochet Bilbo is glaring at me from under my monitor, I still haven't gotten around to turning him into a key ring. I need to make me a Fili really so that I can squish him in apology for all the things I'm putting him through. A dangerous route as I'd then end up doing the entire company....
> 
> Why is this a bad plan? Especially since the children named the last dragon I made (red and gold) Smaug.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tower comes down with a very satisfying, and quite cathartic, crash.

Fili follows the same course to the mountain as his last few attempts had taken, he has learnt that trying to ease things too much often results in a bigger disaster and it is better to get to the mountain than not at all. He successfully avoids getting caught in Smaug’s fire, managing to get away without even the hint of a singed hair to his great relief, and spends his first daylight hours in the mountain gathering an ever increasing number of knives, throwing axes and swords without even _considering_ talking to Bilbo. He has made the mistake of giving Thorin the Arkenstone twice and things have become drastically worse both times. He won’t do it again and so any conversation with Bilbo can wait. He knows from past experience that the hobbit will not pass the Heart of the Mountain to its king unless he’s given little other choice.

Instead, he gives Balin the same advice to ask Dain for a very _large_ army as he had the last time, with the same reasons as well. The old advisor accepts it with as much alacrity this time as the last, but with the added musing that the number of times they have encountered orcs attempting to prevent them from reaching the mountain is as troubling as the rest. Dain will be persuaded to bring far more troops than either he or Thorin might think they need. Fili only hopes that it will be enough.

That done, he wastes no time in grabbing Kili and dragging him to the armoury to find some properly fitting mail rather than the best that can be found as had happened the first time. He doesn’t know what happened to his brother and Thorin after he was killed, he suspects that he doesn’t _want_ to, but given that he knows the battle is coming he wants to give his brother the best chances at survival that he can. That means good armour, and even having been sat untended for nearly two centuries any armour of dwarf make will be in infinitely better condition than something made by Men a handful of years ago. He _wants_ this to be the last time that he has to go through all of this, but suspects that he hasn’t encountered _all_ of the ways that time can be reset just yet. He loads Kili up with as many extra weapons as he can, even going so far as to find a bow and two quivers packed with arrows for his brother to use. Kili protests, although obviously concerned, but in the end he allows his older brother to do what he feels is necessary. Fili has been too aware of what has been happening around them on this quest for Kili to do otherwise.

After that Fili pesters Balin into teaching him how to make flash fire, which in small quantities does little more than create a blinding light and a pop. In large quantities while encased inside a barrel or pot, however, it becomes explosive and Fili has a plan for as much as he can get his hands on. He sneaks out one night when he is supposed to be on watch and blows the foundations of the tower on Ravenhill. The birds aren’t happy, but Fili couldn’t care less about that, it is one less place for an ambush and even though Fili has no intention of falling into the trap Thorin rarely listens to his objections to such things and Dwalin can sometimes be just as bad. The tower comes down with a very satisfying, and quite cathartic, crash.

It does, however, make sneaking back in somewhat more difficult.

That job out of the way, Fili settles to wait for Bard to arrive and stuffs two purloined, tightly packed, bags of gold into his pocket. It has to be better, he thinks, to pinch the gold than the Arkenstone and getting Bilbo thrown out of the mountain isn’t going to do any of them any good in the long run. Though it might have helped if the orcs hadn’t showed up. Two bags of gold, large and heavily packed as they are, are nothing when compared to the value of the Arkenstone, but it _is_ rather more than they had promised to pay the Master of Laketown. Bard will want more, of course, and Fili can hardly blame him if the destruction of Laketown is even half as bad as he remembers, but he needs to play for _time_ (and get a chance to talk to Gandalf, this whole mess has gone on for far too long as it is).

“Let me talk to Bard, Uncle,” Fili says as Thorin stalks through the halls that lead back to the treasury. “You have greater concerns and it’s about time I took my duties as your heir more seriously.” As he had suspected, using one of Thorin’s more frequent (and most unwarranted since Fili knows what is expected of him and does his level best to live up to it) complaints catches his uncle’s attention.

“I will not part with a single coin, Fili,” Thorin snarls, “and you should not be so willing to contemplate it.”

“If Dain doesn’t arrive soon, or if he brings too few warriors, we may not have much of a choice,” Fili councils, as Balin has already attempted to do. “We cannot survive on gold alone and supplies are already running low.” Thorin may be gripped by madness but hearing _that_ from a second source seems to break through. “At the very least _talking_ to them will delay any actions that Bard and Thranduil might decide to take.”

“Very well,” Thorin agrees, sanity lightening his features and Fili feels hope fill him. “Take Balin with you and go.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” he sketches a quick bow and turns to leave before Thorin can change his mind.

“Fili!” Thorin calls and he turns back. Madness has covered his uncle’s face once again. “Not a single coin.”

The two bags in Fili’s pocket seem to burn with the betrayal that they represent. They are not the Arkenstone, they will never be as bad as all of that, but they will still cause problems for him once this is all over. He hasn’t allowed himself to think about what might happen then, but deep down he already knows that it will be years before he can face the thought of living in this place with all of the memories attached to the journey there. He _needs_ this to be over, however, fears that if it continues for too much longer he will truly lose his grip on his sanity.

He pauses just long enough in his hunt for Balin to grab Bilbo and tell him to stay in the mountain with the Mahal damned _rock_ his uncle seeks. If Bilbo is startled by the fact that Fili knows he has it, he is even more shocked when Fili tells him that the problem is being handled and he had better not be forming any hare brained schemes to give the Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard to hold for ransom. That will just make things worse, for Bilbo anyway.

“I’m my uncle’s heir,” Fili assures Thranduil when the elf questions his authority to negotiate on Thorin’s behalf. Elf and Man still seem surprised that Fili and Balin had approached the camp at all, but his status and identity seem to be even more of one.

“And your _king_,” Fili would dearly like to punch the sneer off Thranduil’s face, “thinks to send a child in the company of an old warrior in his place.”

“You have to understand,” Fili bristles, “that aside from my companions Erebor contains only a dragon cursed hoard and the corpses of my people. The structural damage is such that we could effectively block ourselves in until the end of days with the rubble left by the dragon, but the great halls are hardly habitable. Until more of our people arrive and repairs have begun, we cannot possibly _hope_ to begin sorting through the wealth of the mountain, _all_ of which belonged to my family before the mountain fell. Even before _that_ we will need the time to return as many of our fallen to the stone as possible. Respect and peace for those who fell to Smaug is of great importance to our people.”

He has had months to think of how to stall for time.

“Your dead have waited one hundred and seventy years,” Thranduil drawls, “I am quite sure that they can wait a few more months.” He is trying to provoke him, Fili realises, and while Thorin might have exploded in his face Fili has inherited a full measure of his mother’s calm.

“That may be how it is done among _your_ kind,” he replies firmly, “however, a tragedy such as the kind that struck Erebor cannot be left without memorial a moment longer. They have waited one hundred and seventy years and we would not have them wait a day longer than they must. To do otherwise would sow dissent where it is least needed by any of us. A stable neighbour is preferable to one mired in rebellion and civil war, and you certainly wouldn’t see the wealth you seek any faster.” He is met with a cold stare but there is a glint in the eye of the elf king that speaks of understanding.

“This is what you’ve come to tell us?” Bard demands. “Certainly, I find it a more diplomatic refusal to acknowledge your debt.”

Fili glances at Balin. He had explained on the way that he had taken as much gold as he dared to as a good will gesture for Bard. The old advisor had agreed that it was a wise move, but Fili now fears that it will not be enough.

“We acknowledged that we vowed to repay the _value_ of the aid given to us by the Master of Laketown,” Balin says carefully. “Just as we acknowledge that we promised valuable _trade_ while restoring the mountain.”

Fili sees Bard’s face fall. Evidently, he had hopes for something more than a small quantity of gold and the promise of future wealth. However, a rational man _must_ be able to see that even if Thorin _were_ inclined to part with a greater share of the treasure (not forgetting that the Company are all owed equal shares of their own which are growing rapidly smaller with every other who tries to lay claim), such a division of the spoils cannot possibly happen until it has all been sorted and catalogued. Diamonds lie mixed emeralds, sapphires with topaz, rubies with garnets. Doubtless there is gold there that once belonged to Dale, not that Fili will be permitted to acknowledge it out loud or even suggest it even if he thinks it _should_ be returned to Girion’s descendant.

“Typical of the greed of dwarves,” Thranduil says coldly.

Fili removes the two bags of gold from under his coat. It is far more than the substandard weapons and poorly fitting clothes and armour were really worth, and where such things are concerned it is almost impossible to convince a dwarf otherwise. Fili knows, however, that the people have lost everything and there is certainly enough there to cover the cost of Thranduil’s aid twice over.

“I brought this as payment of the first and promise of the second,” he tells Bard. “Any extra will _have_ to wait until the treasury is organised. It wouldn’t do, after all, to give you a diamond only to realise _after the fact_ that it was one of those starlight gems that have drawn Lord Thranduil from his forest.” The last is said pointedly, even though Fili knows there is no chance of it happening, and Thranduil meets his gaze with flinty eyes.

“And what of my gems?” He demands.

“I could possibly persuade my uncle to give them to you,” Fili says after a glance at Balin. “_If_ you were to _publicly_ apologise for falsely imprisoning us in Mirkwood and return to us _everything_ that was taken.”

“I have another suggestion,” Thranduil says with an arched brow and a gesture to the elf guards next to the tent opening. Fili reaches for his sword and stops when Balin shakes his head. They are right in the middle of what, at the moment, might as well be an enemy camp. It would be impossible to fight their way out and survive. “I think your uncle would give a great deal in exchange for your safe return.”

“Lord Thranduil,” Bard begins, obviously uncomfortable with this turn of events.

“This is a mistake,” Fili interrupts.

“I think not,” the elf replies. “I think he would even hand over the Arkenstone itself for the safe return of his heir.”

He won’t, Fili knows, not right now anyway. In fact, Fili isn’t all that sure he would even were Thorin in his right mind. He curses himself for not having thought of this possibility, that Thranduil would find a way to turn things around and humiliate Thorin rather than admit that he has acted poorly towards the dwarves of Erebor both recently and in the past.

Which is when Fili realises that either he or Balin are dead. Even if Thorin agrees to the trade in his current gold obsessed state it is unlikely that he will agree to pay for Balin as well as Fili. If Balin is the one sent with the message Fili is fairly certain that Thorin will kill him for allowing the prince to be taken in the first place. The sad thing is, Fili suspects that Thorin’s gold sickness is so advanced that he won’t even put up the pretence of negotiating for Fili’s release. He _has_ another heir and Fili has heard some of the darker stories about Thror.

The problem isn’t so much that Thorin refuses to negotiate (and Fili had told Thranduil that would be the case and hadn’t waited a second to hiss “I told you so” at the elf king), it’s that he is so incensed by Thranduil’s actions that he reacts with all possible violence. It’s sheer bad luck, and the fact that Thorin’s aim has never been as good as Kili’s, that means that Fili is the one hit by the arrow Thorin fires at Thranduil in his rage.

He is _so_ done with this whole thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm going to stop being mean to him soon. Promise! I'm not sure my heart can take it much more, let alone anyone else.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea's light fingers dance through the thick hair that covers Fili's chest and his own have drifted to tangle into her thick, dark curls.

Azalea's light fingers dance through the thick hair that covers Fili's chest and his own have drifted to tangle into her thick, dark curls. He has never done this with other lovers, the idle trail of fingers through hair and over skin in gentle caresses. Kili is the romantic. Kili is the one who has been caught (more than once) in bed with various lovers. Kili is the one who believes in love at first sight and instant connections, and who always realises it was little more than a passing fancy within weeks. Fili has always believed in enjoying himself discretely and if it is meant to become something deeper then it will. He is the heir to a lost kingdom, he has too many responsibilities on his shoulders to spent time pursuing love, no matter how much of a gift it is to his people.

Which is probably why Azalea has hit him so hard.

Whatever it is that he feels for her, he has decided that he wants to explore it more when this is all over. It could be nothing more than infatuation and the comfort of knowing that even if everything goes wrong during the quest he will wake up and encounter her again. He will see her shining eyes and feel her soft curves and enjoy her welcoming warmth and brilliant smiles. More and more Fili has found himself wondering how he will manage to move forward with his life when he finally breaks this bizarre cycle he has become trapped in and his promise to bring Bilbo back to the Shire has as much to do with _that_ as it does with reassuring Azalea. It's a strange thing, he only really ever spends a day with her at the most, aside from those glorious two months where he abandoned everything, but each time he seems to grow more certain that _this_ is the woman he is meant to spend his life with. He needs to take the opportunity to find out if that if the case and after the events that resulted in his last death, he is very little inclined towards caring whether Thorin will like it or not.

Fili has long tired of being treated like an ignorant child. Kili came on the quest because Fili was coming, he has long ceased _needing_ to earn Thorin's approval because their uncle bestows it upon him so freely and willingly. Fili had come because, as heir, it had been expected of him. He had also come in the desperate hope that Thorin would finally see him as a dwarf grown rather than the ghost of a brother long dead. The heir born of a hasty marriage to a dwarf who loved his mother more than life but was unable to provide for her financially as he should have, and perhaps the problem is as much Fili's resemblance to his father as it is to Frerin. The endless repeats of this quest, however, have taught him that he doesn't _need_ Thorin's approval, and nor does he want it any longer.

He is ready for a lot of things to be over and done with.

His relationship with Thorin has suffered immeasurably since the loop in which he first gave his uncle the Arkenstone. Seeing the merciless creature his uncle will become had been terrifying but the more he looks in each following loop, the more he sees the potential for it even before they reach the mountain. Is it really the gold that drives Thorin mad to begin with? Or had his uncle's fall already begun before they reached Erebor? Thorin has never been one to willingly accept advice, but nor has he so callously discarded so much of it as he does during the quest. Not just Fili's advice, either, advice from Gandalf, Balin and Lord Elrond too. Fili is done trying to offer it, he is done with receiving Thorin's scowls and glares and admonishments to hold his tongue. He will do as he has all the other times they have reached Erebor, he will even go so far as to bring down the ruins on Ravenhill once more (just because he doesn't _know_ if it will make a difference doesn't mean he should leave them alone) and he will make certain that he and Kili get the best armour they can along with all the weapons they could possibly need plus a few more. The more prepared they are, the more likely the chances of their survival. He will keep Bilbo in the mountain, he will not risk allowing Thorin to attempt to throw the hobbit from the battlements once again. He knows all too well that chance plays as much of a part in this mess as fate.

He will _not_ be attempting to negotiate with Thranduil and Bard again, however, one experience of that scenario is enough for his tastes. He just wants to survive this and keep his promise to Azalea that he will bring Bilbo home. He longs to spend some time in this peaceful place where he has so few bad memories and has found so much welcome in past lives. There is too much darkness in Erebor, too many bleak memories and too much fear. Perhaps having something to come back to for himself will help him to get through these last loops.

"Thinking about your mountain?" Azalea's soft voice, hoarse after the intensity of their time together, cuts through his thoughts and he turns his gaze onto her to see her chin on his chest and her own emerald eyes contemplative.

"Sort of," he admits, "thinking of what will happen after."

"After?" She asks, shifting in a way that would be tempting were he not so worn out by their activities.

"Would you ever consider leaving the Shire?" He queries.

"I hadn't really thought about it," she responds, sitting up and tucking the sheet around her chest. "I suppose if I didn't have the schools, I might have offered to take Bilbo's place, since he seems so set against coming with you. But, at the moment, I'm the only one organising any of it."

He remembers her talking about them in the months he stayed in the Shire. The wealthy hobbits, like dwarves, tutor their children in the home. The poorer hobbits, who are quite often working every daylight hour, send their children to school if they can afford it. Azalea, with the help of several of her friends, has been working to reduce the fee so that more families could afford a better education for their young. Her success has been huge, the numbers of pupils at the three schools she and her friends work in have more than doubled, but that success means that class sizes are such that they could use another building and another teacher. At the moment neither is available.

"If you weren't?" He asks, because he knows that in five weeks another hobbit maid will come forward to help and Azalea will have a little more time for herself again.

"I suppose I might," she shrugs. "But then I might not. I'd need a very good reason and Aunt Belladonna's vague notion of an adventure isn't quite enough."

"How would you feel about me coming back after we've taken the mountain?" Fili asks, and she tilts her head with a confused frown as he takes her hand. "Not just to make sure that your cousin gets back safely. How would you feel if I came back to see _you_?"

"Oh," she breathes, pressing one hand to her lips. There is something soft in her expression that he has only seen there once in his lifetimes, during his time in the Shire. "I'd say that we've just met, but I don't think that argument is going to really hold up," she gestures to the bed.

"No," he laughs, "it won't really." He runs his thumb over her fingers. "But there's something here, and I'd like to explore it. I'd like to come back and court you." She stares at him. "I won't-" he swallows, nervous, "I won't be surprised if you say 'no'. I know it isn't fair to ask you to wait when we've only just met and-"

"Yes," she interrupts. "I'll wait. I'll wait for you to come back and court me." Now it's _his_ turn to stare. "Do you really think I'd just invite _any_ stranger into my bed?" She asks archly and he shakes his head. "There's something about you, I feel like I've known you for years. I'm so busy with the school and the children, at the moment, that courting anyone hasn't really crossed my mind, I don't think I would really have time." She would _make_ the time, he knows.

There is a light blush on her cheeks by the time she has finished speaking and she turns her eyes away, as though suddenly embarrassed by the intimacy of the moment even though she is naked but for a thin cotton sheet. He finds it oddly endearing and he presses a brief kiss to the hand that he holds before leaning over and snagging a leather pouch that he usually wears on a long cord around his neck from the pile of clothes. It contains the courting bead that he made the day he came of age, as all dwarves do, and while he had never thought he would have cause to use it in his travels he is now glad that his mother has always insisted that he carry it with the spares he usually keeps close.

"When dwarves start courting, we present each other with a bead to wear," he says as he hands his to her. It isn't much, certainly nothing like that which would be expected of a crown prince, but when he had made it the simplicity of the bead had seemed very important.

"Is that what these are?" She asks, pulling the yellow ribbon she always wears from her skirts. For the first time Fili gets a good look at the silver beads. He can see their age in the small scratches in the silver and the way the vines that decorate them stand out more from the slight tarnish in the hard to reach spaces between them. "They belonged to my great grandmother," Azalea elaborates. "She had a lover, about a hundred and fifty years ago, he left those with her as a promise that he would come back and marry her, but then he never came back and had left her with child."

"How did you come by them?" He asks, these should be buried with the wearer.

"My grandmother gave them to me," Azalea replies. "She lives in Bree now, but didn't think she could bring them with her. Great-grandmother never wore them, and grandma moved to Bree to get away from the gossips."

Fili can well imagine why. Azalea has some dwarf blood in her, although he wouldn't know it just by looking at her. There may be more to the reasons he is drawn to her than he had thought, though he doesn't recognise the family rune on the beads.

"It's exactly what they are," he says. "This one," he points to the simpler of the pair, "is a courting bead. There are no flowers on the vine and the only runes are the name of the one who wished to court her. This," he lifts the second, "is the marriage bead, see how much more intricate it is with the flowers on it, and her name and his intertwined. I would have liked to have met him, his work is remarkable."

"So, he _did_ marry her?" Azalea exclaims. "We never knew."

"Dwarf ceremonies tend to be more private than those of the other races," Fili admits, still looking at the beads he holds. "I'll be happy to explain it all when I return." He pauses. "Will you allow me to braid this bead into place?" He asks, holding his bead up. It is a ritual question that should usually be asked in Khuzdul, and perhaps her great grandfather did precisely that and perhaps _that_ is why they had not realised the marriage had taken place.

"I'd be honoured," she replies and although it doesn't follow the ritual it is close enough that he feels comfortable proceeding.

He passes the ribbon back to her and she fiddles with it restlessly while he words, amazed by the length of the braid forms in her long curls. Though he wishes that the bead would hang for everyone to see, it will be difficult to spot it lost in the mass of thick hair Azalea possesses and that is probably for the best.

"I have nothing to give you," she says as he finishes and he presses a kiss to her lips, fingers still holding the courting braid as he touches their foreheads together.

"What are the hobbit customs?" He asks.

"Oh, we give a favour, something suitably hobbity like a handkerchief or a posy of flowers," she rolls her eyes and he gets the impression that she has received more than one of those in her time and is just as certain that he has rejected every one of them. Her eyes still linger on the ribbon. "We cook meals for each other and go on long walks and spend time taking tea with each other's family." She goes silent and he can almost hear her thinking. "I'd like you to take these," she pulls his hand towards her and winds the ribbon around his wrist three times before tying a tight knot in the two ends. "They weren't made for us, so I know we can't use them," she says before he can say it, "but they're precious to me so I'd like you to wear it as a symbol of _my_ promise to wait for you. I'd like you to bring them back to me."

He _will_ be back, he thinks as he kisses her desperately, he _has _to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can be nice!
> 
> I apologise if there are some really weird bobbles in this one, I'm halfway between a headache and a migraine (I can still see, yay) and need to wait until the Shieldmaiden and Grumpy Dwarf King have gone to sleep before I attempt it myself, otherwise one of them will clamber into bed with me and when their father comes in later the whole house will get woken up.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normally, when Fili leaves the Shire, he does little more than wink and wave in Azalea’s direction.

Normally, when Fili leaves the Shire, he does little more than wink and wave in Azalea’s direction. That is usually enough as a farewell goes. This time, however, it seems wrong to do that even though she would probably understand. He seeks her out after breakfast as the others are gathering their things and setting the smial to rights (and Bilbo is always surprised to see them fixing the mess they made). As luck would have it her only companion is her cousin, who is fussing much as Fili knows he always will before he experiences the hardships of the road. She is nodding and humming, not seeming to feel the need to _say_ anything as her cousin reminds her to take his will to her father and lock the door and not let Hobson Gamgee forget to trim the verges and keep a firm hand on the garden. He leans in the door and watches as Azalea tucks a handkerchief into the pocket of Bilbo’s pack and hands him a second one to go into his jacket.

“I’m hardly likely to forget any of this, Bilbo,” she says firmly, “and I’m in Hobbiton with Daisy Proudfoot once a week anyway to help with reading lessons. I’ll keep an eye on Bag End and keep the Sackville-Bagginses out.”

“I know, Azalea,” Bilbo sighs, “but let me worry a little bit, I’ve never done anything like this before so- dearest, what happened to your ribbon?”

Azalea’s hand goes to her neck where her yellow ribbon would normally lie kept in place by the weight of the silver beads that now brush against Fili’s wrist under the cuff of his coat.

“I know exactly where it is, Bilbo,” she replies, her eyes finding Fili behind her cousin and Bilbo turns to look at him.

“Azalea,” the hobbit warns.

“It’s _fine_, Bilbo,” she replies. “Will you give us a moment?”

“If _that’s_ the way things are, I think I had probably better,” Bilbo grumbles, “but rest assured, young sir, you and I will be having _words_.” Fili smirks at him, Bilbo always becomes a good friend and deserves none of the things that have happened to him over the course of this never-ending cycle of quests.

“I look forward to it,” he rumbles and lets Bilbo pass.

“So, this is it,” she whispers when he takes her in his arms. Her fingers twist in the fur of his collar and he can see tears form in the corners of her eyes. “How silly of me,” she laughs, burying her face into his chest so that he cannot see them, “I’ve only known you a day.”

“I feel much the same,” he confesses, and she peers up at him. He takes advantage of her upturned face to press a quick kiss to her lips. She makes a soft noise in the back of her throat when he moves to pull away and so he lingers for a moment longer.

“Good luck,” she breathes when they part.

“We’ll need it,” he replies. “I won’t lie, Azalea, this quest is far more dangerous than any of us want to admit. If I’m not back in two years, don’t wait for me. Go on with your life.”

“Don’t say that,” she hisses. “You’re not _allowed_ to die, do you hear me? I don’t care about promises or tokens and trinkets or any of that. You are _not_ going to die.”

“I don’t have as much control over that as you seem to think,” he says. “We’re being hunted, Azalea, and I’ll do my best to protect your cousin and my brother, but if it comes down to a choice between _my_ life or theirs, I would lay down my own in a moment.”

“I know,” she mutters, “but Bilbo would never thank you for it, and I don’t think your brother would either. Look after each other.”

“We can do that,” Kili says from the door and Fili looks over, startled. “She’s right, nadad, I would never forgive myself if you were killed so that I could live. So, don’t even _think_ about doing something so _stupid_.”

“What do you want, Kili?” He demands.

“Uncle says we’re leaving, and he won’t wait for you, kin or no,” Kili shrugs. “You could always catch us up, if you want to say a proper goodbye,” his brother leers but it is a teasing thing and Fili growls a curse at him. “You kiss our mother with a mouth like that?” Kili laughs. “I’ll wait outside.” He adds when Fili reaches for a cushion which has been left on a nearby chair.

“Remember what I said,” he tells her, fingering the braid he had placed in her hair in the early hours of the morning.

“As long as you do the same,” she replies tartly. He catches her in a desperate kiss that only ends when Kili calls his name. It is time to leave and for the first time since his panicked refusal to continue the quest so many repeats ago Fili doesn’t want to leave. “Go,” she whispers. “Go before I find a rope and tie you to my cousin’s chair.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he mumbles against her lips, taking a moment for one more kiss before striding away.

He doesn’t look back until they are out of the garden and well on their way towards the meadow where most of the ponies have spent the night. She is still stood in the door, a spot of brilliant blue in the green of the hillside, and he almost loses his nerve entirely until Kili touches his arm.

“She’s your One,” his brother keeps his voice too low for the others to hear, though they are far enough ahead that it is unlikely to be much of a problem.

“I think she might be,” Fili nods.

“Well,” Kili huffs, “looks like we won’t have to wait until we meet _Smaug_ for Uncle to burst into flames.”

“We aren’t going to say a word of it to Thorin,” Fili hisses. “Not one. I don’t want anyone else to know, either.”

“What about Mister Boggins?”

“Baggins,” Fili corrects absently, “I’ll talk to him later, _out_ of Thorin’s hearing.”

He does talk to Bilbo later, although the hobbit has apparently made his peace with the idea by then after spending the morning watching Fili as he interacts with the others of their Company with an ease and grace that is not expected in one so closely related to Thorin Oakenshield (Bilbo's words, not Fili's). If anything, it brings the two of them closer, with Kili readily joining them when Fili is training Bilbo in the use of a short sword when he has never bothered in previous loops. Bilbo, it turns out, is thirteen years older than his cousin, and has a vast number of stories to tell about her. The age difference doesn’t seem to have affected their relationship overly, Azalea’s parents were the ones to help Bilbo the most after he lost his family during what he calls the Fell Winter (and Fili remembers the one he is talking about striking them hard in Ered Luin as well). Thorin scowls at the friendship that builds so quickly, and while he doesn’t seem to suspect that the reason Bilbo speaks so often of his cousin is from anything other than fondness Fili worries about arousing his uncle’s suspicions all the same. He doesn’t want to have to deal with Thorin’s opinion of the whole thing until he absolutely _has_ to, and that will be _after_ he is certain that he has managed to escape this endless repeat of this journey.

By the time the reach the mountain the yellow ribbon has lost much of its brilliant colour, reduced to a murky green that looks like something dragged out of a swamp instead of a favour from a young lass. Most of the Company have noticed it, although only Nori has connected it to Azalea and he had only winked and smirked before strolling off to torment Dwalin some more (apparently Nori’s favourite pastime). Given everything else that they have managed to lose over the course of the quest Fili is surprised that the ribbon has held up so well and that the beads are still attached. He had begun to fear, a week after they had left the Shire, that he would lose this precious treasure of Azalea’s as he does so many other belongings. Even the Mirkwood elves, however, seemed to recognise it as a love token and left it be. He has very little in the way of warm feelings for those elves, but he had been grateful that they had simply muttered about it in their bird language and left it be (Thorin may dislike elves but he would not have himself or his heirs at a disadvantage when dealing with them by needing a translator).

“You should probably find a chain for those, nadad,” Kili says as they root around the armoury.

The first time, so long ago, they had taken armour that they could barely move in and had discarded it before leaving the mountain. Fili isn’t going to allow that to happen this time. He knows they need better armour than they had gone out in the last time, he would rather carry the extra weight and be a little bit more difficult to kill when the time comes than go without. He intends to live this time, thank you, and he will be very annoyed if one of the others gets themselves killed before he can break this cycle. He turns his eyes onto the frayed and discoloured ribbon. His brother is right, it’s not going to last all that much longer and he while he doesn’t want to lose _it_, the beads it holds are far more precious.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “after we’re done here.”

“We probably won’t need all of this, you know,” Kili says.

“We will,” Fili shrugs. “Have I been wrong yet?”

“No,” Kili admits. “But that worries me. Ever since the Shire there’s something different about you. You hardly talk to Thorin, you barely even look at him. You promised yourself to a hobbit lass we just met when you don’t believe in stuff like that and the whole way here you’ve been doing things that seem odd at the time but make perfect sense later. You _knew_ they were going to close that gate on the river before we even _saw_ it and you avoided Smaug when you couldn’t possibly have known he was there, and I didn’t have chance to shout a warning. I’m not _stupid_, Fili. What’s going on? Why did we go an demolish the tower on Ravenhill last night? Why did you tell Balin to ask Dain for more troops?”

“Keep your voice _down_,” Fili hisses, closing the door to the armoury firmly and then dragging Kili to the back of the room. This is the first time that Kili has noticed Fili’s preparations enough to question him on it, however, and now he’s almost at a loss for how to explain it all. After all, he tried once and had ended up tied to the back of the pony that washed away because they all thought him too insane to be allowed free. “I can’t explain it,” he whispers. “I don’t even really understand it myself. I just need you to trust me. Things are going to go badly and if we aren’t prepared, we won’t survive.”

“We should warn Uncle,” Kili replies. “Tell him to forget the Arkenstone, we’ve got the mountain.”

“He won’t listen,” Fili shakes his head. “The gold already has him and he’s going to get worse. Bard’s going to come to try and claim what we promised to the Master of Laketown and Thorin won’t be in any state to give it to him.”

“You don’t _know_ that,” Kili insists.

“I don’t _need_ to,” comes the snarled reply. “Do you think I spent all those hours asking Balin about Thror for the fun of it? You heard the same tales I did and I’m willing to bet my entire _share_ that if I tell Balin my suspicions he’ll say the same thing. The gold has Thorin and it isn’t going to let him go unless something terrible happens. The orcs have followed us all the way here, Kili, we were _never_ meant to make it to the mountain. They’ll come for us and they’ll bring an army. The evidence is all there if you pay attention and _think_.”

There is no point telling Kili that he has lived this quest before, even with all the evidence of Fili’s foresight his brother would never believe him. This, however, seeing patterns and thinking a step ahead, is something that Fili is good at. He had known it was a trap the instant he and Kili had entered the tower on Ravenhill the first time he lived the quest, it was why he had sent his brother away from where he thought Azog might be. He hadn’t expected to be captured so swiftly, however. Azog had almost been waiting for him, as though he had expected Fili to separate himself from his brother. It is something that has made the endless repeats of the quest all the more torturous, being able to clearly recognise the signs of what is coming and beating himself up for not putting it together the first time around.

Kili is quiet, staring at him with fathomless dark eyes. He’s too serious these days, Fili realises, the quest has leached the lightness from him in much the same way it has Fili and he would mourn the loss of that part of his brother were it not for the fact that he needs his brother to stop for a moment. Kili isn’t stupid, as he pointed out, and while he isn’t always as observant as he should be when he doesn’t see a need for it (Kili on a hunt is a terrifying thing to behold) his mind is agile enough to put it all together once Fili has pointed it out.

“What do we do?” He asks finally.

“I don’t think there’s anything we _can_ do,” he admits. “I think if there was something to be done it would have been before we ever left Ered Luin.”

“If Uncle heard us, he would call us cowards,” Kili murmurs, eyes turning away.

“Very little different to the things he has said to me for most of my life,” Fili mutters in reply. Their father had refused to join the armies marching for Khazad-dum even though he was six years older than Frerin who had been among the first to volunteer.

“He shouldn’t,” Kili snaps. “After everything you’ve done, he doesn’t have the _right_.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fili replies, resting his hands on Kili’s shoulders and touching their heads together. Kili huffs. “Kili, it doesn’t. I’m not going to stay in Erebor. When this is all over, I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Kili pulls away in alarm. “What do you mean ‘leaving’? Where will you go?”

“I’ll take Bilbo back the Shire,” Fili shrugs. “Azalea’s waiting there, I promised I would go back to her and I mean to keep that promise.”

“After that?” Kili asks.

“If she wishes we’ll stay in the Shire,” he responds. “She has a life there and her teaching is important to her. I can be a blacksmith anywhere.”

“But, Fili, you’re the _crown prince_!”

“Do you think I want it?” Fili snarls. “After everything, my _entire_ life spent listening to Thorin criticise and snarl, do you really think I want to stay here so that he can carry on? He can father his _own_ heirs if he wants to do that. I’m not staying, Kili. Not for you, or Amad, or anyone else. I’ll find my own way if Azalea doesn’t want me, but it won’t be in Erebor.”

He takes a calming breath, closing his eyes against the tears that threaten to gather and fall. He hadn’t intended on talking to Kili about this, yet. He isn’t sure he ever _did_ mean to tell his brother what he was planning. He certainly won’t tell Thorin, even if his uncle breaks out of his madness long enough to join the battle Fili has no idea if his newly regained sanity will last once the war is won and the orcs driven back to their holes. Better not to risk it and slip away quietly.

“Isn’t there anything that might change your mind?” Kili whispers.

“There’s too much darkness here, Kili,” he tells his brother. “I’ll make sure you always know where to find me,” he promises.

Kili walks away and Fili spends the days until Bard arrives, with Thranduil and his elves at his side, wondering if his brother will be able to hold his tongue, even though he knows that Kili can keep as many of his secrets as he needs. He’s tempted to ask his brother to come with him when he leaves, but he isn’t sure that he would be able to live with depriving their mother of the chance to see at least one of her sons.

Things move quickly after that, although Fili manages to grab Bilbo before the hobbit can sneak out of the mountain with the Arkenstone. He’s right, in the end it makes no difference whether Bilbo goes to Thranduil and Bard with the thing or not, Gandalf manages to talk the two of them into trying one more time to make peace and move the people of Laketown into the mountain where they will be safe, and Fili tries one last time to convince Thorin to listen to the wizard. He is as completely ignored as always, and he sends a look Kili’s way. His brother had been poised to add his own arguments and is being silently restrained by Dwalin. Their mentor looks as troubled as the rest of them, his own enchantment with the gold not able to stand in the face of the horrors that the wizard insists are headed their way.

Gandalf is right, and Fili can feel Kili’s eyes burning into them as the orcs appear and Dain’s army (far larger than it had been the first time around) joins with the elves and Men to defend the mountain.

“We should be out there,” Kili hisses.

“We will be,” Fili replies. “Keep your bow close, stay on the fringes. Let’s just get out of this alive.”

“Agreed,” Kili breathes as he watches the carnage taking place outside the mountain.

By the time they’re racing out with Thorin in the lead Fili is praying that this will be the last time, he can’t face this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How nice am I feeling? That's a very good question, because I could go two ways after this. It partly depends on my mood when I look at my mapped chapters tomorrow. It partly depends on my readers, how much more do I want to torture all of you and, therefore, Fili?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili wakes with a gasp and a bitten off curse

Fili wakes with a gasp and a bitten off curse. For a moment he expects to feel the warmth of the spring sun and feel the soft Shire grass beneath him. Instead he is greeted by the cold of winter, though it is not yet bitter enough to truly discomfort him, and the stuttering lamps of a healing tent. This tent is quiet, the patients in healing slumber both natural and not. His neck is bent at the odd angle that comes from sitting while sleeping, propped against a support where he had slumped after Kili had finally woken from his three-day fever. His brother will live and recover well, now that the orc taint has been removed from his leg, and that is _all_ Fili cares about.

"Awake at last," a familiar voice says, and Fili turns his sleep blurred gaze up to meet the ancient blue eyes of the wizard.

"Gandalf," he croaks, stretching but he lacks the energy to stand.

"You have finally done it then," Gandalf comments and Fili freezes.

"Done what?" He asks hesitantly.

"Broken the cycle," comes the enigmatic reply and Fili scowls.

"You _knew_?" He demands, remembering at the last second to keep his voice down. "I went through endless repeats of this Mahal forsaken quest and you _knew_?"

"My dear boy," Gandalf puffs on his pipe and Fili absently muses that Oin would have the wizard's beard if he were caught smoking in a healing tent. "I would never have permitted you to go through it alone had I even the slightest inkling."

"If this is some clever guess-" Fili grumbles.

"No, Fili," the wizard sighs. "Rather, it is me trying to tell you that I owe you quite the apology." Fili stares. "While you have slept most of the day away, I received a visit from one whose presence I have not felt in more years than you can truly fathom and who I have known for longer than you could possibly conceive."

"Some apology," Fili mutters and Gandalf raises a mild eyebrow.

"Less of your cheek, Fili son of Dis, and a little more silence if you would like to hear the explanation you are owed." Fili bows his head and Gandalf hums around his pipe, making the dwarf long for his though it is long lost. "Anyway, I was informed of the unusual circumstances you had found yourself in. I was horrified, of course, but I had little idea how such a thing might come about and had I not heard of it from the source I did, well, I would have been far too sceptical to be of much use I fear. I was promptly informed, however, that it was, in fact, a situation entirely of _my_ creation."

"_You_!" Fili exclaims and Gandalf shoots him a quelling look.

"If I _may_," he grumbles. "At some point in the future, motivated by some outcome I found undesirable, though I have no idea what, I decided that the direct line of Durin, who should have fallen during this very battle, ought to survive."

"Why?" Fili asks, not because he is ungrateful for this second chance, he just needs to understand.

"I have no idea," the wizard admits, "and I was not told. Only that I believed it would aid in bringing to light something we ought to know about with all possible urgency. What that thing is, I could not say. My plans went awry, obviously, through fault of my own or the interference of others I know not. I have only been told that I had intended to make my way back to my _younger_ self so that I could accomplish whatever my plan may have been."

"Why did it fall to me?" He stares at his hands, there are so many others who would have been better suited to the task.

"Perhaps because you were the first of the three of you to die," Fili stares at him. "Or perhaps because you are not called by the gold in the same way that Thorin was, and do not worship your uncle as Kili sometimes does. Just how many times did you experience the quest?"

"I lost count," is the cold reply. "If you were only seeking mine, Kili's and Thorin's survival, why did the quest begin again every time someone died?"

"Because it was not their time," Gandalf says. "They all have tasks to complete in the future, I would imagine, and the spell was obviously designed to protect against their premature death, or those of the three of you." He wrestles with the urge to hit the wizard. He doubts he would be able to get close enough anyway. "You have your entire future, Fili, a chance to see and help rebuild Erebor. Dwelling on the past will do you no good, and Thorin will need you now more than ever."

"Thorin can look elsewhere," Fili hisses. "I am bound to escort Bilbo to the Shire and have no intentions of returning."

"Why ever not?" Gandalf queries. "After all the effort you have gone to so that you might survive to see the place, too. Surely not _just_ for your dwarf blooded hobbit lass?"

"I have many reasons," Fili replies. "_None_ of which I need to air to _you_ or any other save Thorin and Kili. What does it matter if Azalea Took is one of them?" Or if, he thinks, she is the reason he has finally gathered the courage to turn away from his uncle and end his desperate attempts to prove that he is neither his father nor Frerin. Unless- "Gandalf, what part _did_ Azalea play in all of this?"

"I'm not sure I understand," Gandalf raises his eyebrows.

"Was she part of the spell?" He demands, not sure that he wants to hear the answer.

"No, not as such," the wizard mutters. "You encountered her during your first experience of the quest?"

"We stopped and asked her for directions," Fili replies.

"Then no, she had very little to do with it at all," comes the response. "She _may_ have been a little more aware that time was repeating itself than she realised. Hobbits do not accept offers of courtship _lightly_, Fili, as I am sure Bilbo has warned you, so that she accepted _yours_ shows that she must have retained some small awareness of you, even if it is only a vague idea of familiarity." Fili releases a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. "I think you needed something familiar and comforting to hold onto, and I think a pretty hobbit maid in a blue dress became that for you."

"So, you're saying what I feel for her isn't real?"

"Oh, it's quite real," the wizard reassures him. "Without it I think I you would be rather more unhinged and that you have come through with your sanity _so_ intact is something to be thankful for. I think she gave you a deeper reason to get through all of this. Not that you should have needed it when your brother and uncle's lives were at stake." Fili doesn't reply to that. "But to the matter of Thorin and the mountain-"

"I've told you, Gandalf, I'm _not_ staying," Fili insists.

"He will need someone he can trust at his side," Gandalf presses.

"He will have Balin," Fili shrugs, "and Ori, and my mother when she arrives. Kili too if he doesn't come with me." He stamps heavily on the guilt that swims through him at the thought of leaving Thorin to struggle when he has access to so many others that he can place his faith in. "I have been giving advice and attempting to help him for _years_, and likely more than any of us realise with the amount of time I have spent trying to alter this quest to end with us all safe and well. I will not sit and become little more than another voice in his darkness who reads documents and guides his hand for signing. Let Balin and Ori do it."

"That is cruel, Fili, your uncle has lost his sight, would you make him lose you as well?"

"He lost me long ago, Gandalf," Fili shrugs. "It is not just Thorin, although he is a greater part of it than you could understand. It is the quest and the countless ways I saw and experienced death. I watched him kill our burglar, saw him slaughtered by our friends and died at his hands. Those memories haunt me, and likely will as long as I remain in Erebor as she stands now. After everything I have been through, I need somewhere peaceful to decide what my future will hold. Where is more peaceful than the Shire?"

"They may not wish you to stay among them, hobbits can be strange people," Gandalf warns.

"I stayed with them once," Fili admits, "when it all became too much. They were more welcoming than you'd think."

"You are settled, then?" The wizard asks.

"I am," Fili nods and feels more at peace with his decision than he had before talking to Gandalf.

His uncle's condition, blinded by an orc attack after killing Azog, is a pitiable one. Fili fears, however, that once the reality of his condition has set in Thorin will make his heir the target of his frustrations with it in much the same way as he has so many other things in life. Thorin is a hard dwarf, even to those he is closest to, and Fili has been the target of his ire many times during his life, both before the endless quest and after. Before he accepted it, having no idea where he would go or what he would do if he fought back and Thorin were to cast him out as a result. He no longer has that fear. Even if he reaches the Shire and realises that Azalea is _not_ who he is supposed to spend his life with he will find a way of making a life for himself. He will not need to be in Erebor for that and perhaps it would be nice to see a little more of the world while the numbers of orcs are low.

"I hope you will not object if I join you to take Bilbo home," Gandalf gets to his feet, leaning heavily on his staff although Fili suspects he doesn't need it as much as he would imply.

"I doubt I could prevent it even if I did," Fili shrugs and the wizard chuckles.

"Erebor would be an interesting place if you remained," he says. "But as you say, you deserve peace and a sizable chance for happiness as well. Your reward for your persistence will be far greater than you could have imagined, I think."

With that last cryptic remark, the wizard leaves the tent and Fili leans his head back against the hard-wooden support as he thinks on the conversation. He wonders if Thorin finds his conversations with the wizard as winding and sometimes confusing as this one, and half pities his uncle for it. Then he remembers the number of times that Gandalf's advice, which had always been based on the success of the quest, had been disregarded or ignored entirely. Little wonder the wizard had so often been short tempered.

The tent is still quiet and the exhaustion of the battle and months of hardship on the road is still upon him. He suspects that Gandalf woke him so that they might have their conversation during a quiet moment when it would be unlikely they would be overheard. He shifts uncomfortably. He should go and find somewhere else to sleep, but a quick look shows that Kili is still resting on the same cot he has been since the battle. His brother is peaceful now, no longer tossing and turning in fever and agony, but until he wakes for more than a handful of moments Fili is reluctant to leave his side. His conversation with Gandalf is enough to indicate that the seemingly endlessly repeating cycle of quests has ended, and he will not forgive himself for leaving the tent to rest should something happen to Kili. Not even to see Thorin, who has asked for him more than once and sent Dwalin to fetch him twice. Of all of the Company, however, Dwalin is the most aware of Fili's difficulties with Thorin and while his mentor would never have outwardly challenged Thorin on it all (not just because Thorin is his king, but because Thorin is Fili's nearest elder male relative) he has quite often quietly helped Fili avoid his uncle where he can. Fili doesn't know what Dwalin has told Thorin, who has been placed in a small tent of his own away from the other injured for his own safety, but after the third summons his uncle had stopped sending for him. Fili would rather stay with his brother anyway.

He drifts back into sleep, too mentally and physically exhausted to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm in a good mood this morning, although I had all the chapters for if I wasn't mapped out I just can't bring myself to keep on being mean to Fili. Contrary to current evidence he's my favourite and being this cruel to him as been hard. Maybe two more chapters after this one.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is difficult for Fili.

Winter is difficult for Fili. He had known that it would be as soon as he had realised that they would not be able to travel until the weather improved. This far north a sudden snowstorm can put a stop to all travel plans for weeks. In this case it not only stops them from travelling, it prevents the necessary clean up from the battle as well. Corpses of enemy and ally alike become frozen and buried under snow and ice within a week of the battle and the injured are hastily moved into the ruins of Dale and the damaged halls of Erebor where they can be kept out of the worst of the cold. That the bodies are frozen at least prevents the worst of the smell of decay and the spread of disease as the days go by.

True to his predicted fears Fili spends a great deal of time at his uncle’s side guiding him through his day though he longs to be anywhere else. Kili is still healing but is as capable of reading reports aloud and helping Thorin write that which is needed as Fili. It is, he thinks, another way of trying to make sure that Fili stays in reach at all times. Advice, which he swore he would not offer but ends up giving anyway, is as summarily ignored as before.

“You are here to learn, Fili,” Thorin will snarl, “when I wish for your opinion, I will ask for it.”

Fili will probably have been dead for seven centuries before _that_ happens. It’s made even worse when Balin makes the same suggestion an hour later and Thorin agrees without thought. Fili gets very close to throwing something at his uncle and marching out of the room, but keeps control of himself because he refuses to throw a tantrum and give Thorin something _else_ to gripe about.

“Don’t take it to heart, lad,” Balin says after one particularly bad afternoon. “He’s frustrated with his circumstances is all.”

“I stopped taking it to heart when I was twenty-five,” Fili shrugs. Thorin doesn’t always notice that there are others in the room when he starts on his rants about Fili and everything about him that his uncle disapproves of and so others are seeing, for the first time in some cases, just how difficult the relationship between them is. “I put up with him for Kili’s sake, but I won’t do it forever.”

“I’m not sure I blame you,” Balin admits. “Go on with you, I’ll deal with him for the rest of the day.” Balin will be dealing with Thorin for the rest of his life, Fili doesn’t envy him.

Kili’s leg heals quickly enough, thanks in no small part to the magics of the elves who had helped at Gandalf’s insistence. He pushes himself harder than Fili would like, but when confronted about it will not say more than he intends to go with Fili and Bilbo to the Shire. Thorin’s moods, though understandable in their own way, have also served to drive Kili away. Eventually one of them will have to come back, and it will more than likely be Kili because Fili can’t see himself leaving Azalea or the Shire any time in the near future, but it will be for the sake of the mountain rather than their uncle. He spends a great deal of time working on his marriage beads, though whether they will ever be used remains to be seen. Even though Gandalf has assured him that hobbits rarely enter a courtship unless they are already almost certain that it will lead to marriage, he still fears the uncertainty of the future.

“Azalea has refused eight offers that I know of,” Bilbo tells him one evening when the long wait is beginning to make Fili anxious. “The more vicious gossips say it’s her dwarf blood, she still looks young for her age you know, but I think part of her always knew a hobbit would never be one to make her happy. She’s too curious for the proper lads who made the offers.”

It reassures him but doesn’t make the wait any easier. Time in the mountain also brings memories that haunt his dreams and cause him to wake screaming. Kili listens, though he cannot understand, as Fili explains what he can of them. He hates reliving his memories of dying, or seeing those he cares about killed, but this is not something that he wants to share with Azalea, it isn’t a reality that he wants to bring into her safe and peaceful world and the more he speaks of them, the easier his memories become to deal with. They will never go away, Dwalin tells him when he asks his mentor if there is anything else that he can do (Dwalin has noticed the sleepless nights and has lived through his own experiences of war and horror before the quest), he simply has to learn to deal with them and to remember that he is home and safe and whole. That is probably the hardest part, especially when he wakes expecting to see the Shire and to be trapped back in a loop he can’t tell anyone else about, so he settles for listening to the sound of the stone and his brother’s snores. He never thought that he would find that sound as comforting as he now does.

They quietly gather supplies, not telling anyone about their plans since they know that if they do someone will stop them. Fili is tired of having to explain himself to everyone around them and so when Gandalf turns up again and announces that it is time to take Bilbo back to the Shire Fili declares that he can Kili are going with them and that is the end of it.

“It would be remiss of us to allow one of our Company to return to his home with only the wizard as a companion,” Fili says when Balin makes his own objection alongside Thorin’s (who does not see why _Bilbo_ should have to go let alone his sister’s sons).

“Will you be returning with the caravans from Ered Luin?” Balin asks, having gotten control of his temper more quickly than Thorin. Fili shrugs, not trusting himself to answer. “You’re not coming back, are you?” Balin mutters too quietly for Thorin to hear. “Don’t think I missed seeing those beads, lad,” he bows his head. “You know you won’t be able to stay away forever, you’re still Thorin’s heir, there’s nothing that can be done to change that. He’s in no condition to court a lass of his own now.”

“I have no desire to be king, Balin,” Fili points out.

“I can see that,” Balin agrees. “But in this you have little choice. I’m not sure how much longer Thorin can continue to rule as he is.”

“Kili will know where to find me,” Fili assures his teacher, he doesn’t particularly like the idea of a regency either. Mahal knows Thorin will never truly agree to it, or step aside enough to allow Fili to do what is needed without question. “If he decides not to come back for a time, I’m sure Nori will be able to work it out.” Balin arches his eyebrows but shakes his head fondly.

“Go on back to your lass,” he orders. “Make the best of it while you can have a little peace. Mahal knows we won’t find any here while you’re both gone.”

They leave the following morning, the rest of the Company with them at the gates to bid farewell, and Fili can only feel relief at finally escaping the crushing weight of the mountain and a future he does not want. They don’t take much beyond food and a small amount of their share of the treasure. Bilbo barely even takes that. The hobbit accepts the mithril mail shirt Thorin had given him and a handful of gems and gold. It will be a long trip, and they will be able to stop at the troll hoard on the way to replenish their purses if need be. Fili and Kili take a small chest each, Kili’s filled with loose gems and damaged items of silver and gold which he can melt down for use in crafting delicate jewellery. Fili’s is filled with the gold and silver coin he will need to truly establish himself as a smith wherever he might end up. Spent carefully he could probably afford to live off what he has with him for several decades, but he is not made to be idle. The others don’t make mention of the fact that the three of them obviously have no intention of returning any time soon. The quest was hard on all of them, but it has left the deepest marks on Fili and they understand that he needs time.

They ride away in silence, all lost in their own thoughts though Bilbo turns to look at the mountain a few times as they go. Fili has a sneaking suspicion that while he and Kili will eventually return and make their lives there Bilbo will never come back. The hobbit had built up a friendship with Thorin during the quest, but that has suffered with Thorin’s mood being so bleak of late. Bilbo doesn’t blame Thorin for that, none of them can imagine the horror of waking without sight, but nor is the hobbit inclined to accept the vitriol that sometimes spills from Thorin’s mouth in his direction. Or in Fili’s direction for that matter. Their friendship could weather a great many things, founded in the circumstances that it was, but not the mistreatment of Bilbo himself or the dwarf who dedicated so much time and effort to the hobbit when none of the others wished to.

Besides, Bilbo has a home to go back to and responsibilities of his own to fulfil. Regardless of Thorin’s state of mind he cannot stay in the mountain forever and he rapidly makes it known that he appreciates having Fili and Kili around. Gandalf is well enough as a travelling companion, Fili supposes, but he is silent for the most part and apparently still trying puzzle out more than just the reasons his future self may have wished to change the past.

“How do you turn invisible like you do?” Fili asks Bilbo one evening. They are near a pass through the Misty Mountains, though this one is further south than the one that they took on their original trip and have made camp a little early so that the ponies will be well rested the next day. “I know not all hobbits can do it else you would have when we encountered the trolls.”

Gandalf watches curiously but says nothing.

“Well, it’s no big thing, really,” Bilbo mumbles, fingers drifting to his pocket. Fili watches him closely. “You remember we were separated, under the Misty Mountains?”

Fili nods and Bilbo proceeds to tell the three of them the story of his encounter with Gollum. The hobbit is uneasy throughout, though Fili can understand why, and at the end he pulls a small golden ring from his pocket to show them. It is a plain, unassuming little thing, but something about it makes Fili’s stomach lurch and a glance at Kili shows that his brother is made equally uneasy by it.

“I trust you would never use that unnecessarily, Bilbo,” Gandalf says finally. “There are many magic rings in this world, and none of them are to be trifled with lightly.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t,” Bilbo says but it is a little bit too rapid for Fili’s tastes.

“No,” Gandalf agrees around his pipe, “I am sure you would not.” He peers at the thing. “All the same, I would feel better if I looked into it a little and would advise the three of you to hold your tongues on the matter. Events are in play that I dislike and the last thing we need is word of a magic ring being abroad in the world to get out.”

“If Fili hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have mentioned the thing at all,” Bilbo grumbles but he shoots the dwarf a fond look all the same.

It is the last time that the ring is mentioned.

When they reach Rivendell the three of them agree that a break from travel would be welcomed. As eager as Fili and Bilbo both are to get to the Shire the road has been hard, they need more supplies, and they all look rather the worse for wear. A chance to stop, clean up and make repairs is called for and where better than the Last Homely House (or the first if you happen to be travelling west). That is where Gandalf leaves them, with a glare at Bilbo to remind him not to use his little ring or speak of it. Neither Fili nor Kili can truly relax in Rivendell, even though Fili has spent so much time there during the unending repeats of their quest and Kili’s opinion of elves has been noticeably soured by his experiences of them in Mirkwood. Fili welcomes the rest, but there is no denying that he would rather be in the Shire. They only remain for a week, in the end, and it is a more pleasant stay than their last with proper meals and less hovering from their hosts. Bilbo spends quite a bit of time with Elrond, talking about his mother of all things who had apparently visited a handful of times before she married, and the dwarves leave them to it, content to wander the gardens thought they are careful to stay out of mischief for Bilbo’s sake more than anything.

Elrond offers them an escort back, mindful of the trolls they had encountered the first time. Fili and Kili both decline _politely_ because Bilbo is glaring daggers at them both and he may not be able to best them with a sword but upsetting him is a good way to find themselves eating bland meals. Besides, they intend to stop at the troll cave and liberate some of the chests of gold Gloin and the others had buried. A few weeks carrying those back to the Shire will be easier on their ponies than dragging the same amount from Erebor would have been.

Their mood, already so much lighter since they left Erebor behind, continues to improve, with Bilbo telling the pair of them about the midsummer party that they should all arrive in time for and the harvest festival.

“You know, my tomatoes had won prizes four years running before you lot spirited me away,” Bilbo comments as night begins to fall. “I doubt I’ll be home in time to start it all off properly this time. Hobson should have done all of the planting anyway, and he knows he’s always welcome to any extra the garden produces since it’s a lot for a single hobbit, I just hope my not being there doesn’t mean that he’s decided to forgo the planting entirely.”

They are only just inside the Shire, and although Bilbo is familiar enough with the paths further in, he confesses that he would rather wait until morning before they continue any further. Fili agrees reluctantly, and only because he cannot give them a reason otherwise that they would believe.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there now. I can't promise an update tomorrow, I've got a hospital appointment for my messed up shoulder (I'll probably get yelled at for doing too much again, even though I've cut back massively on the amount I do) and then I have a few other equally dull appointments to keep. The joys of adulting.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili wakes in the Shire with the sound of Kili's snoring loud in his ears.

Fili wakes in the Shire with the sound of Kili's snoring loud in his ears. He lies in his bedroll with panic creeping through him as he takes in the sounds that have become so familiar after so many fresh starts in this place. Birds sing around them, Kili's snores a harsh counterpart, and the soft snorts and nickers of the ponies where they have been tied for the night. He doesn't dare to open his eyes. Doesn't dare to _move_. It was over, he thinks breath beginning to come in harsh gasps. Gandalf promised him it was all _over_.

"It's a dream, Fili," he hears Bilbo say, the same as he has a dozen times or more during this journey when the memories of his past play on his mind. "Wake up, now, there's a lad."

It's _that_ which convinces him to open his eyes. Bilbo hovers nearby, has learnt from experience not to get too close, hazel eyes shining with concern and sandy curls dancing in the summer breeze.

"Bilbo," he breathes, though he manages not to crush the hobbit in an embrace it is a near thing.

"Must have been some dream," his friend comments, echoing, all unknowing, Kili's words from that first repeat so long ago.

"You have no idea," Fili huffs.

"Well, since you're up you can help me with breakfast," Bilbo stands and dusts himself off, a habit he has never gotten out of no matter _how_ pointless. "Then we can rouse his lordship from his beauty sleep and get a move on. If we push, we should be home by mid-afternoon."

"I heard that," Kili mutters. "No amount of sleep can improve on perfection."

"Which is why I sleep so little and _you_ need all the help you can get," Fili concludes.

Kili makes a rude gesture in his direction. The whole thing would devolve into a wrestling match if not for a glare from Bilbo. Fili doesn't really want the delay either, although trading barbs with his brother helps to clear the last remnants of his earlier panic from his mind, and they eat breakfast and break camp in record time. Kili has no reason to hurry, but he seems to understand why Fili and Bilbo might want to rush and he doesn't complain. He might not be eager to see if the lass he wants to court has room for him in her heart, or return to the home of his birth and childhood, but he has said more than once that he is looking forward to a real bed once more and even a hot bath.

Not for the first time, Fili finds himself grateful that Kili decided to come with them.

The closer they get to Hobbiton the more certain Bilbo becomes as he leads them along paths that, to Fili, begin to look increasingly familiar. More than one hobbit stops to stare up at the three of them, some of them turning as pale as sheets when they recognise Bilbo, and their friend's name begins to move ahead of them as though carried on the breeze. More and more hobbits appear in their gardens and fields and Fili begins to feel uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

"As I live and breathe, if it isn't Mr Bilbo," a hobbit with the kind of deep tan that comes from working outdoors every day says loudly. "She said you'd be back, Miss Azalea did," he continues, trotting alongside them. "Said it even louder once them Sackville-Bagginses started insisting you be declared dead and your will read."

"And did they find the contents of my will to their liking, Hobson?" Bilbo asks far more mildly than Fili would have expected him to all things considered.

The hobbit, on the other hand, cackles, opening the gate into the meadow that belongs to Bilbo so that they can leave their ponies there and take their things up to Bag End.

"You know full well they did _not_, Mr Bilbo," he chortles. "Miss Azalea was none too happy either, mind."

"Why ever not?" There is an unmistakable smirk in Bilbo's tone. "Making sure I sorted out my will before I left was _her_ idea. Why not have her reap the rewards?"

"The Sackville lot have been making my life miserable for the last four months, cousin, _that's_ why," another voice joins them from the other side of the gate.

Fili turns. Azalea is leaning against the gate, wearing yellow today, her hair caught back at the nape of her neck. She is glaring at Bilbo, although Fili can see the worry that lies under it as she runs her eyes over her cousin. Then she looks at him and he sees her mouth fall open in shock as she stands straight, her hand drifting to her neck where a white ribbon has replaced the yellow one. That yellow ribbon is long gone, forgotten somewhere in the depths of Erebor after Fili had taken the beads it once carried off and placed them onto the fine chain around his neck.

"You came back," she breathes, taking a hesitant step towards him.

"I told you I would," he replies with a lopsided grin, nerves filling him now that she is before him.

"Good," she says firmly, apparently at a loss for anything else to add.

He closes the distance between them, not able to allow the silence between them to continue into awkwardness. If it does that, he fears they may never find a way to move forward and he has spent too long clinging to the vague hope of a future with her at his side to allow it to slide away for a lack of the right words. Fili takes her face between his hands, her cheeks so smooth beneath his rough palms, and meets her eyes with his, giving her a moment to pull away. When she doesn't, he fits their lips together effortlessly, kissing her until there are both gasping for breath and she is clinging to the dusty leather of his coat (returned by Thranduil begrudgingly, and that doesn't matter because he has it back).

"Tell me you haven't found someone else," he whispers, aware of the crowd beginning to gather.

"Don't be so stupid," she replies with a bright grin. "Why would I look for anyone else? We were going to explore this together, remember?"

"Aye, lass, I remember," relief fills him.

"Why don't we take this inside _before_ the Sackville-Baggins lot get here?" Bilbo suggests with a quick glance down the path. "As entertaining as it would be, I'm too tired to deal with them at this precise moment."

"I should take Fili and lock the rest of you out," Azalea responds, arching an eyebrow. "It's _my_ smial after all, at least until father declares the whole thing a big mistake."

"You wouldn't let her do that," Bilbo looks at him with wide eyes. "Would you?"

"It's been over a year," Fili shrugs, "we've got some catching up to do."

Bilbo and Kili beat them inside by seconds and the four of them collapse by the door giggling as the sound of outraged shouting reaches their ears. Azalea slumps against Fili when someone starts pounding on the door, a shrill voice calling her name.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Bilbo says, patting her leg, "I didn't actually intend for you to get caught up in this mess between my cousin and I."

"Well, you deal with it, see if you can give the miserable bat an apoplexy by opening your own front door," Azalea grumbles as Fili helps her to her feet. "I'm going to start dinner. Luckily father insisted I move in. Come on, Fili," she adds as Bilbo looks warily at the door, "you can help me."

They don't get much cooking done.

"Trust me, Bilbo, you do _not_ want to go in that kitchen," Fili vaguely hears his brother say an indeterminate amount of time later.

It's been a long year. Hobbit stomachs, however, are not easily ignored and all too soon they are actually attending to the task of cooking dinner. Azalea fusses and flitters around them all, exclaiming over how thin Bilbo is and how tired they all look. He can tell that she really wants to hear their story, wants to know what happened and how successful they were, but she shakes her head whenever they start and tells them that it can wait until they have all had a good night of sleep. The look she shoots at Fili, however, makes him wonder just how much sleep he's going to get.

A week sees them properly settled into Bag End, and Azalea moving back _out_ of the smial and returning to Tookborough. It would not do for her to be living in the same house as the one she is courting, and she has every intention of allowing Fili to court her fully under both hobbit and dwarf tradition. The curiosity she had displayed in that one loop of time where Fili had stayed in the Shire has not diminished, if anything it has increased. Now that they are courting Azalea's interest in the other side of her heritage has only grown. This time, however, Fili doesn't feel the need to be quite so guarded in his answers as he was. She has dwarf blood, and will likely end up living among dwarves, and so as far as he is concerned, she has every right to know anything she wishes.

Eventually, during a dinner with her family, the subject of the long empty forge comes up and with it the inevitable question about whether either of the new dwarf inhabitants of Bag End would be interested in running it. If they are capable of it. Kili's talents, Fili admits, are mostly wasted in a forge. He's a jeweller at heart although Thorin had always insisted that they _both_ be able to do the basics. Fili, however, is called to such work and it had been about the only thing that he and Thorin had really had in common. He readily admits that he had hoped for just such an opportunity and within a week he and Kili have moved into the old forge and extended it from a dwelling for a single occupant to a home that may one day house a family. At the very least it will allow Kili some space as things between Azalea and Fili progress.

Which they do and to their natural conclusion some six months after Fili's return to the Shire. For dwarves this is an unseemly swiftness to the whole thing. For hobbits six months could be considered lengthy. That said, most hobbits grow up near the one they will eventually marry and so know them fairly well before courtships even begin. As far as Fili is concerned his unusual courtship with Azalea, most of which only _he_ is aware of, has lasted for far too long. Six months is ample time for him to be certain that she is the One who will always hold his heart and Azalea doesn't take long to come to the same conclusion.

There is only _one_ aspect of his past that Fili cannot put aside forever, as much as he wishes to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more after this chapter, though it's all written. I had intended it all to read as one, but it got away from me a little bit and this was a good point to break at. Say nice things to me, please? I've had a trying evening. I got home from all the dull appointments to find I had no water in the house and a burst pipe outside the house. Emergency plumbing occurred but it was a very wet and very cold job that will need a proper plumber tomorrow. My house hates me. Adulting is very hard. I need more a Adulty adult to help navigate this stuff. Thankfully my mum had come home with us and helped hugely, because my mother is amazing. I think I probably would have melted down entirely without her this afternoon. So, yes, very trying day. I'm going to go and curl up and cuddle crochet Smaug and pretend I'm 4. 4 seems like a good age.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years pass where Fili and Kili heal in the peace of the Shire

Four years pass where Fili and Kili heal in the peace of the Shire. Azalea births their first child a little over a year into their marriage, a son they name Azali, and with the birth of his son Fili finds he settles that little bit more. He had spent the first months of his marriage on edge, half expecting Dwalin to turn up with orders from his mother or Thorin to drag them back to the mountain. With the birth of his son Fili has a true tie to the Shire for the first time, something that can be used to hold him there or bring him back should the worst happen.

When Dwalin _does_ finally find them, it is late in the day. Fili is closing up the forge and Kili has already vanished into the house with Azali on his shoulders and Azalea shouting instructions for him to wash the _child_ not the entire bathroom.

“One time!” Kili calls back, though all three know that isn’t strictly true.

“We’ve closed for the day,” Fili says when a shadow enters the doorway.

“Hello, lad,” his mentor replies and Fili stares.

Azalea is in the house, he thinks, making dinner. Kili is upstairs with Azali and Dwalin will not harm them, none of them. If he has come to fetch either of the princes, he will be peaceful, if firm, about it. Any other of his uncle’s guards would be more difficult to put off, but Dwalin can be reasoned with.

“Dwalin,” he nods, continuing with his work. The last thing they need is a fire because he has done a sloppy job. “My wife is about to serve dinner, perhaps you’ll join us.”

“My news can’t wait, lad,” the older dwarf objects.

“It _will_ wait, Dwalin,” Fili informs him.

Something shifts in Dwalin’s expression and for a moment Fili can see exhaustion tugging at him. Dwalin looks thin, almost stretched, as though he has rushed to the Shire from Erebor. Fili feels something like dread grab at him. It can only mean bad news if Dwalin has felt the need to push himself so hard. Has he come to warn Fili that Thorin is no longer willing to take ‘I’m not coming back’ as an answer to the frequent ravens demanding his presence? He doesn’t argue again, however, which is odd in itself. Azalea regards Dwalin warily when Fili tells her that his mentor will be joining them for dinner but accepts it graciously and without the scolding that she would give _her_ family when they turn up unexpectedly. Bilbo is, unsurprisingly, the worst offender.

Kili is the only one _not_ made wary by Dwalin’s arrival. In truth the younger brother has been considering leaving the Shire for some months, feeling called back to the mountain since an encounter with a caravan some months before. He will not tell them exactly what happened, only that it is time for him to go back and they had all agreed that once winter had passed, he would make his way back to the Lonely Mountain. It comes as a surprise to see tears fill Dwalin’s eyes when he meets Fili’s son, Azali staring back up at him with wide green eyes in utter fascination. The reason he has come, however, does not come up until Azalea has left to tuck the boy into bed, carrying a sleeping and obviously exhausted child from the room in a way that pulls her skirts just tightly enough to show the soft swell of her stomach and the reason that Kili had agreed to wait until after winter to leave.

It takes Dwalin several long minutes to speak.

“I wish I had come with good news, lads,” Dwalin says, staring morosely at his ale.

“We’re wanted back in the mountain,” Kili says. “Thorin’s sent you to get us.”

“Aye, you’re needed back in the mountain,” Dwalin sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and Fili is alarmed to see tears on his cheeks. “But it’s not on Thorin’s orders.” He draws a deep breath and Fili sees Azalea pause in the doorway, waiting in silence with a tray of drinks in her hands. “The king is dead,” he says tonelessly, and Fili suspects that is the _only_ way he is able to deliver the statement. “Long live the king,” he adds, staring directly at the blond.

Azalea drops the tray. The crash of full tankards and a teapot hitting the floor startles Dwalin enough for him to turn with a curse and a dagger in his hands. Fili, however, is already on his feet and at his wife’s side. She’s staring up at him with wide eyes, shock clear on her face.

“Azalea, are you alright?” He asks. “Is it the baby?”

“Why didn’t you tell me your uncle is the king?” She replies and he blinks.

“I did,” he says, and she shakes her head.

He frowns, glancing at his brother who doesn’t seem to have noticed the interaction and is staring at his clasped hands in silence. News of Thorin’s death would always have hit Kili hard, Fili knows, and he will deal with his own feelings on the matter later, right now he has his pregnant wife to worry about. He thinks back on their conversations since the quest, not able to fully separate the things that he has told her _before_, and realises that every time Thorin was mentioned during their tale it was by name but when spoken about as part of their childhood it had always been simply ‘Uncle’.

“It doesn’t matter,” she adds into the silence. “Are you-”

“I don’t know,” he admits. She knows a lot of his complicated relationship with Thorin, she’s the only one apart from Kili that he has explained so much of it to. “I need time for it to sink in,” he continues and looks over at Dwalin who has been watching them with dark eyes that are full of grief. “When? How?”

Dwalin is almost hesitant when he tells them about the last four years in Erebor. Thorin’s rule has been a difficult one, made all the more so by a lack of visible heirs to the throne. It has been punctuated by weeks of productivity followed by months of bleak depression which have grown longer and longer with every passing spell. Thorin had always been active, either training or in the smithy when not immersed in the tasks that come with being king of Durin’s folk. Without his sight Thorin had found it difficult to continue, no matter how many came forward to help him. Ultimately, Dis had taken on the role of regent and Thorin had sunk deeper, becoming prone to illness though it is uncommon in dwarves.

“He knew the end was coming,” Dwalin sighs heavily, Kili is openly sobbing by this point and Azalea has taken him into her arms to soothe him, though she keeps a hand wrapped Fili’s and she squeezes his fingers every now and then to offer some comfort. “He had Balin take down letters for you both, I have them in my bags.”

“There’s _nothing_ he could possibly have to say,” Fili snarls. “Burn it.”

“Fili,” Azalea turns her attention from his brother, who has rested his head against her shoulder. “If you don’t want it, let me take it, don’t throw it away. The day might come where you _want_ to know what your uncle had to say.”

Fili doesn’t believe that he will for a moment, but he makes an irritated noise of agreement. Dwalin watches them carefully, obviously waiting for some sign of grief from Fili but all the prince can feel is rage. There is so much he needed to say to Thorin, so much that he had been working up the courage to put into words to try and make his uncle understand that he would never be able to go back to the mountain unless left with no other choice. That time has come far too soon. He knows that progress has been made in repairing the damage done by Smaug and neglect, he knows that it will not be the same cold and dark place that he became so familiar with. He fears returning all the same. He fears that by returning all of the memories and nightmares that he has worked so hard to put behind him will come back to haunt him.

“Wish I’d come with better news,” Dwalin says, and Fili doesn’t have to say that he does too.

Over the coming days they begin to make plans for their new reality. Bilbo has to be informed, a task Kili offers to take on and Azalea goes with him. It may well be the last time that she makes the trip to Hobbiton, regardless of when they decide to depart, for some time. Azali is left with Dwalin and Fili, and he takes great joy in introducing his son to his mentor. For _his_ part, Dwalin is fascinated and enchanted by the child, who has his mother’s curly dark hair but his father’s dwarven features, if on a slightly finer scale.

“We need to leave as soon as we can,” Dwalin tells him while they watch the toddler play quietly in a corner.

“Not until after the worst of winter,” Fili shakes his head. “Azalea’s with child. It will be midwinter before the babe is born and I don’t want her on the road in her condition.”

“Alright,” Dwalin sighs. Fili stares at him. “You’re the king now, lad,” Dwalin points out. “You haven’t been crowned yet, but you are all the same. I’m hardly going to argue with reasoning like that anyway. Your Amad has been handling things for the last two years, she can manage a little longer.”

Bilbo, as Fili expected, takes the news of Thorin’s death hard. Azalea moves her cousin in with them for a time, moving from one family member to another as they grieve for the friend, uncle and king they have lost. She watches Fili with increasing concern as he continues about his days as though very little has changed, quietly preparing for their relocation to the mountain by sending to Ered Luin for a replacement smith and arranging for a wagon to carry those belongings that they have no desire to leave behind. Fili’s temper, however, grows increasingly poor as the days go by, to the extent that he snaps at his brother regularly and his son begins to avoid him.

It is that which brings him up short when Azalea confronts him about it in the kitchen. He rages at her for a while, and she watches as he paces the small room like a caged animal as he releases every thought and every question that he was unable to direct at Thorin and now will never be able to get answers for. When he eventually runs out of questions he slumps to the floor in a boneless heap, half expecting her to have turned away or fled for fear that he might hurt her. Instead she awkwardly sits next to him, her condition making it more difficult for her to get up and down, and holds him as he finally lets his grief overwhelm him. It is not grief for his uncle, not entirely, there is grief for Kili and his mother, for everything that he now has to give up, for the child who had tried so hard to please an uncle who could never be pleased. In the end, though, there is also grief for Thorin who lost so much to the quest and was never able to truly appreciate what they had all gained.

“You should have let me handle him, lass,” he hears Dwalin say distantly some time later.

“He’s _my_ husband,” Azalea replies. “It was my place and my right. Nothing will ever prevent that.”

“And if he had hurt you?”

“He never would,” her fingers are tangled in his hair, but her faith in him is a greater comfort than the simple touch could be. “Help me get him to bed.”

Azalea gives birth twelve days later, a boy they name Bili for the cousin whose inclusion in the quest for Erebor allowed them to meet. Once that has happened planning to leave begins in earnest and they wait only until the worst of the night frosts have cleared before taking to the road. Azalea’s grandmother, Primrose, who at one hundred and fifty-three still looks like a hobbit of roughly seventy years, joins them. In part, to help Azalea with the children, but also because she knows the future queen will need a familiar face in the mountain and she has tired of the gossiping hobbits.

Fili returns to Erebor as quietly as he left five and a half years before, in a rickety wagon with his wife and two sons, her grandmother, his brother and mentor riding at his side. They pass into the mountain mostly unnoticed, not ready to be seen just yet, and make their way to the council halls where a guard tells them they can find Lady Dis. Fili expects his mother to be cold and regally distant when she greets him. Instead she crushes him to her in the same loving embrace that she always used to and that Thorin had always insisted would make him a weak king. She does the same for Kili, touching gentle fingers to the beard that has grown over their years in the Shire and openly allows her tears to show. They are tears of joy and of grief as she holds her two sons, sons she may not have seen for many years to come if not for the odd workings of fate. Azalea is greeted curiously, but with the warmth that comes from knowing that the lass has watched over the brothers and for them in their grief. Azali, confronted with so many new faces, clings to his father and uncle, burying his face in Fili’s shoulder when he is lifted to meet his grandmother. Bili, hidden under his mother’s cloak where he suckles contently at her breast (and one thing Fili has learnt is that hobbit women truly excel at continuing with their day to day lives while caring for young children), is left for later.

He never finds true peace as King Under the Mountain, no matter how things grow and change over the years. It is a position he had long ceased to want and one that he reluctantly takes up because it is expected and needed. The times he manages to find any peace are the evenings, when he has finished for the day and dines with his wife and ever-increasing number of children. He is _not_ the kind of king they might have expected, he lacks the hardness and rough edges of Thorin, but it is agreed that he is the kind of king that they needed.

Fili contents himself with the thought that he has his family, no matter what memories the mountain brings back and the fears that he has to face after so long without it. He isn’t where he wanted to be, but with Azalea and their children, with Kili and his family, he slowly learns to call Erebor home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! Another one that I never thought I would write (looking at you Spider) that became a little bit more than my original vision. Big shout out to Miriel Tolkien (who gave me the idea for Azali's name) and huge thanks to everyone who has commented or read or left kudos because watching those counters go up makes my day. Writing is hard and it's nice to see it all appreciated.
> 
> Also, I had a major wobble last night, so thank you to everyone who said nice things. It had been a long day and the six weeks I've been in this house have been a time of finding constant problems to deal with. It got a bit too much. Bailey's, a biscuit and the arrival of our regular plumber (who will probably make a fortune out of us before we get everything wrong with this poor house fixed) and the lovely comments have settled me. Let's see how long it lasts.
> 
> And now back to Jewel of Durin, which is giving me the stink eye from the back of my mind. Oops.


End file.
